10 Unexpected Ahas from an Unanticipated Moment of Kindness

It’s a guilty pleasure. I’ll periodically take my laptop to a local cafe for breakfast and write. Sometimes I’ll order something decadent and other times stay in the healthy lane. No matter what, I come home with a full belly, and hopefully some progress on my manuscript.  

The one distraction is when local women come through the cafe, approach each table, and try to sell their art. Usually, like most people who aren’t tourists, I give them a polite, yet firm, “no, thank you,” and they move on.  

Last week, hot and heavy into my writing, not to mention scrambled eggs on toast with mushrooms, I noticed a woman making her rounds. When she got to me, she didn’t unroll a piece of art. Instead, she came to my side, leaned in close, and whispered, “I’m hungry.” 

After a brief pause, I closed my laptop, put it in my bag, and said: “Let’s go get you some food.”  

As we walked together towards the window where we place the order, I tried to understand what she wanted. She was Aboriginal, and English was not her first language. She also didn’t want to come all the way to the window with me but told me she’d wait at my table.  

I bought her a sandwich and a cup of hot tea to-go and went back to my food. She was waiting for me there. As I sat across from her, it struck me that for all the times she’d walked through to sell art, she may not have taken a seat inside before.  

We waited for her food and tried to make conversation. She spoke bits of my language, but I don’t understand a word of her’s. She talked to me about paints and painting, but I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I pointed to my laptop, she pointed to a painting and made lots of hand motions. We didn’t cross that divide successfully.  

When her food arrived, she asked me to put the sugar in her tea. She also wanted salt on her food but didn’t know how to use a salt grinder, so she asked me to do it. Then, using more hand motions, she made it clear that she wanted to share my meal. We shared my mushrooms, but I declined buying more. Then, with the last few mushrooms well-salted and in her takeaway box, she got up and left. 

Instead of pretending I didn’t hear her or understand what she wanted, I chose to do something. I decided to choose kindness.

Here’s what I learned. 

• I admit that I wanted to be kind and buy a meal, not sit down for a meal with her. I realize now that I wanted to do a good deed, yet keep my distance. Sitting with her was just as important as paying. She got food but also treated with dignity.  

• Gratitude for the things I have in my life sparked me to give. However, I’m now grateful for what I got from her. Before, I wouldn’t look twice when she came my way, now I see her for who she is – another human being.  

• We all want connection. We crave it. It’s part of living.  

• You don’t have to speak the same language to know what someone else is saying.  

• We can do small things for people that make a difference anywhere and everywhere. We don’t have to wait for a big moment or a big giving opportunity.  

• Even when we decline, we can do it with kindness and recognize that it’s a human making the request.  

• In nearly eight years of living here, I’d never imagined we’d sit down together. You never know what will happen. Sometimes what we’re so sure is true is false.  

• It’s ok to be uncomfortable. I was on edge during our meal together. Still, I didn’t cut it short, or leave, or suggest that she should take her food and go. Sometimes we learn the most about ourselves and others when we stay through the discomfort instead of pretending it doesn’t exist.  

• One act of kindness won’t change the world, but what if we all committed to doing one kind thing a day? One thing that’s a little out of our norm. Imagine if just 10% of the world population chose one act of kindness daily that would equal 770 million acts of kindness.  

• We are not friends now, and I didn’t change the world. However, I can choose kindness regardless of the outcome. We all can.