“Practice random kindness and senseless acts of beauty.”
— Anne Herbert
Penn Station, New York City, noon, the beginning of summer. Eighty degrees: A perfect day. Everyone who can be outside is outside. But I have to go in to catch the train back to Jersey. I am not at full sprint, but I am moving, hungry. No breakfast, no lunch. A morning consult brings me in once a month to YAI/National Institute for People with Disabilities. I’ve done it hundreds of times. Winters, summers, I know my way around Penn Station. I have it down to a science. I get a sandwich – make the train.
There is a deli near the Seventh Avenue exit that has the best grilled vegetable panini sandwich I’ve ever had. I swear I would do the consult just to buy this sandwich.
The staff at YAI/NIPDD is eager, ask good questions and look to apply their newfound knowledge. The YAI agency works with everyone from high-risk infants to the homeless. They are dedicated. I am with them sharing what I know, but mostly I am thinking about the panini.
At the deli I get in the rear of the long line. The glass-case sampling is a marvel to look at. The front of the case is beveled out toward the line. We can lean over and salivate to the California / avocado wrap, or the Southwestern chicken and balsamic salad. Ahh, there it is, vegetable panini.
A couple joins in behind me, pointing and commenting and I overhear their conversation. He is closest to me:
“Man, that chicken looks good, but it’s too expensive.”
“Get it if you want it,” she says.
“Nah. I know it’s good, but I’ll get something else.”
“Get whatever you like.”
My eavesdropping is interrupted by a woman behind the counter. She deals with New Yorkers. She moves the line along.
“Next!”
The guy on the other side in front of me orders the ham and cheese panini.
“Don’t you move!” the lady behind the counter says as she points to him. “I’m going to heat it up and hand it right back to you.”
He nods.
“Next!”
“Vegetable panini,” I blurt out, then quickly follow, “I’m not moving. I’m staying right here until you tell me I can move.”
“You got that right,” she says as she laughs.
I see the couple. Nothing about them suggests couplehood. They are standing together, but they also seem to keep a distance. She is chic and young and well-groomed, and they are of different races. He is older, has a dishrag under his frayed hat, layers of clothes that don’t match, and a sour odor to him. It is clear he hasn’t shaved or bathed in a while. Her jet-black hair is perfectly styled and cut for fashion. My natural curiosity makes me want to figure out what brings them together. I wonder to myself if they might be in a rock-fusion band, but slowly come to realize he is homeless and she is not.
“Next!”
“What do you want?” the lady behind the counter asks him.
He points to an oversized grilled cheese sandwich.
“You got it, honey — what about you, miss?” she says, directing her gaze to the young woman.
“I’ll have a salad.”
“Then move around these people and come to the front of the line. The salads are premade and you pick out the one you want.”
She walks to the front, the guy in front of me is handed his ham and cheese, and the woman behind the counter turns back to the oven to get mine.
Then it happened.
A man from behind the counter points at the man from the couple.
“Get out of here, get out of here, get off the line, let these people through! How many times do I have to tell you?!”
The woman behind the counter turns from the stove with my panini in her hand. She confronts the man who is yelling.
“No, no, no, no, no! He’s buying something this time.”
“He’s buying something?’
“Yeah. His grilled cheese is in the oven.”
“Grilled cheese?”
“Yeah, it’s paid for.”
The man with the dishrag on his head smiles and nods slightly. He has several teeth missing. The woman he was with has selected her salad. As per our instructions she and I are directed to go to the very front of the line — to the cash register. I stop to get a bottle of water and allow her to go in front of me. She hands the cashier a credit card.
“This is for the salad and that man’s cheese sandwich,” she says, pointing him out.
“That man?”
“Yes.”
The man who was yelling from behind the counter brings the large, warm, perfectly grilled cheese sandwich to the woman paying for it.
“Is this yours?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says, pointing to the man she was with. “It’s for him.”
The man behind the counter wraps it, puts it into a bag, reaches past her and hands it to the man she was with. He grabs it, and in an odd exchange thanks her, then flees the line as if he had just stolen something. They swipe her credit card, and she plucks a fork from the display near the register.
“That was very cool,” I say to her, “very cool indeed.”
“I figure if I can afford this, I can afford to do that,” she said.
“Still, it is very nice to see,” I offer.
“I look to see what I can do,” she tells me. “This, I can do. No big deal.”
I made the train and chalked it up to having witnessed a simple, random act of kindness. But it got me thinking.
A random act of kindness, a phrase that grew out of the lead quote by author Anne Herbert, was a concept that captured our collective awareness. What interested me about this kindness was that the woman was obviously searching for ways to make a difference. She didn’t wait until she was panhandled — she stepped up, noticed where kindness was needed, and did something about it. This means it wasn’t so random. She was poised to be kind.
It prompted me to wonder what we know about this sort of thing. An interesting study out of Japan published in the Journal of Happiness Studies in 2006 (which included a co-authorship with Barbara Fredrickson, one of the leading authors in the field of positive psychology) showed that if you are a happy person you are more likely to recognize kindness and be kind. But what was really interesting was that they found you became even more kind and grateful if you counted the number of times you were kind in a day.
Counting kindness?
The researchers asked participants to become more aware of their own kind behavior toward other people every day for one week. Those taking part kept track of every kindness they performed and gave a tally at the end of the day. The result? Happy people. If you count the kindness you do for others you become more kind and grateful.
As if that weren’t good enough to start you looking for good things to do, consider the work of another researcher, psychologist Jonathan Haidt, who found that watching acts of kindness created physical sensations such as a warm, pleasant, or tingling feeling, and that people who watched compassionate and kind acts wanted to help others and become better people themselves.
Could it be that simple?
Could it be that all we have to do is count how often we are kind and we’ll feel better and so will those who watch us?
I’m going to start counting right now.
And if you would like to get involved with making your kindness not-so-random check out the Random Acts of Kindness Foundation, the United States delegate to the World Kindness Movement.
Oh, and about the young woman? She was wrong. What she did was a big deal. It did something good for him, for her, for me, and for passersbys coming through New York City.
And now, maybe, for you, too.
Start counting.
16 comments
I try to be poised to be kind. I know it could be me in need, and I want to “sow the world with what I hope to reap”. I’m teaching by example that way, in a larger classroom.
I have occasionally been able to see a need before it’s asked of me to help, or when the asking is not present, as in the case of a homeless man sleeping in an entryway, with his shoes neatly placed nearby. I tucked a couple of dollars in one shoe, hoping it would help with breakfast. He was so solidly asleep.
One time, some decades ago, a woman looking fearful, approached me in my car asking for some money to help her to get a place to stay that night. She started a defensive litany before her request. I gave her a couple of dollars, but as I watched her move across the parking lot, I realized that but for the help of others, I could be her. I slowly drove up to her, hoping not to scare her, and gave her enough to get the room she needed. I couldn’t not do it.
My son has learned kindness towards strangers in need, or even just other kids who wish they had the toy he brought to play with them.
Occasionally somone ahead of me pays for a bridge toll or a drink order. I pay it down the line, hoping the line lasts longer than not.
Sometimes, all it takes is passing your smile to another on one of their bad days. It can be that easy.
If you have ‘walked through the fire” yourself, you are more likely to have empathy for someone who is in the same condition you once were. If you have never been without food or shelter, you have no idea what it feels like. Too many people today who could make the changes needed to improve the quality of life for other people, have never walked through the fire. They have little patience for those who have.
We were honored to have Dr. Fredrickson on campus last year at Claremont Graduate University (among many other distinguished guests) to talk about the scientific research behind this. The same principal applies to considering moments of happiness during the day — the more you think back on them, the more likely you’ll appreciate them when they happen.
Ever been behind someone in a checkout line who lacked a bit to be able to pay? I love those occasions. It takes no planning, or foresight, or guessing to make a difference – to the person in need, the cashier, and the people behind you in line.
Wow!! What a totally great story & absolutely right on point too! Thanks for a wonderful
article.
🙂
All she did was encourage the smelly man to continue to harass someone else’s customers. Her heroic sacrifice of eight dollars most likely bought the business owners weeks of this guy’s panhandling, and bought the police several nuisance calls worth of trying to get the guy to move on far more appropriate places for getting the help he needs.
Cheaply assuage your conscience at your own sacrifice, not at the sacrifice of small business owners and law enforcement.
Dear Jeff,
You are an ass, and your words are not worth my time to reflect upon. Go play in a busy street.
Agreed…
The world would be a better place for all if everyone could understand that we all need each other and instead of being greedy about what we have, we should share, like this woman, whatever we can spare. Having been through good times and bad, I realize that it really doesn’t take very much, sometimes, to brighten someone else’s life and when it comes to the homeless, ‘there, but by the Grace of God, would go I’! I would love to have beautiful things, travel wherever and enjoy things like live concerts, gourmet foods, etc.,..I would love to be able to paint and/or write, again, to design clothes, go back to University, etc., but my limitations do not keep me from sharing a hotdog and some dog treats with a poor man and his hungry pet on the street or giving my extra things to a charity where people who need things can obtain them at no cost Sometimes a smile, a friendly word, helping someone carry something heavy, giving a senior a ride home so they don’t have to ride a hot bus, complimenting a father or mother on their lovely baby or simply holding the door for someone makes a big difference in their sad or difficult day. It can take so little effort to be kind to someone else and everyone should try it several times a day,…people out there need our help and what do WE get in return? Another minute of enlightened warmth in our own lives! God Bless us every one?!!!
@Jeff Jewell: Wow. This is satire or trolling, right? You live in a country with little in the way of social services, and so much of the provision that is available for people is based on generosity and empathy. The point of the article is that it benefits both giver and receiver. I wouldn’t be so keen to discourage that social capital; at some point the smelly guy could be any of us.
Thanks for the reminder. I try to keep kindness as a daily task. (That sounds so clinical) How can I not give a moment of my time or resources when others don’t have what I have. I have been the recipient of acts that I never expected and my life has been uplifted. Not passing that moment beyond myself is not the life I wish to lead.
Again, thank you for the reminder.
Thanks for this article. I did the same thing a few weeks ago in Vancouver; I bought a breakfast for a homeless man while waiting in line for a coffee. My co-workers all thought I was insane to help him out but I felt good. I’ve been off the track of volunteerism in the last year to concentrate on my career but I’m not any happier. Lately I started to volunteer again in the community and it’s made a big improvement in my life. Work still sucks, though.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful and inspiring story with all of us. In our 21st Century, 24/7 lifestyle, taking the time to do something kind for another person can feel like an arduous task. But, the truth is, when you make being NICE a part of your daily routine, it becomes as easy as breathing. Plus, kindness is contagious, so through something as seemingly insignificant as a little random act of kindness, each of us truly has the power to change the world. Kindness is one of our most valuable natural resources and best of all, it’s infinite and FREE. So, be generous with it!
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