Over the last week I have been reminded how important a simple kindness can impact another’s life. Sometimes a hello will elicit a smile in a stranger who was having a bad day. Other times it runs much deeper and our impact is never truly known. It’s hard to know, even with those who are closest to us, what those around us are dealing with internally. Some struggles run so deep it is almost impossible to imagine that another human being must deal with such awfulness. Some hide it well, others wear it on their sleeves. Either way, being kind is free.
A few nights ago the truth of this was brought to my attention by a friend who lives 2,500 miles away, who I have never met. I became acquainted with Tiamaria through Twitter while I was still on my previous account. We would tweet occasionally but nothing too in depth. When I moved to a new account in December, we began to tweet more.
I try to respond to everyone who takes the time to tweet me. I did this when I had 1200 followers. I do this now that I have 190 followers. If someone takes the time to talk to me, it’s only right that I acknowledge their words. Unless they are gross or creepy but that is a topic for another day. So often people would comment that I was the nice librarian. I don’t know about all that but I can say I am just being me.
On her blog, Tiamaria posted a lovely tribute to those who have impacted her lately. I am honored to be mentioned. I had no idea she felt this way or that I had impacted her life in such a manner. It’s the little things I guess. Her post comes at the perfect time for me. Over the last month, my life has felt like a roller coaster. It’s good to know that I still have worth when so much coming at me seems to indicate the opposite.
All of this is just a reminder to myself, and maybe you too dear reader, that we are all wading through some shit or another. We all need a sign of compassion, whether it be a smile or holding open a door. I will never forget an exchange I had with a lady working the drive-thru at McDonald’s a few months ago. While I was paying for my breakfast (seriously the only reason to ever go to McDonald’s unless it is to get a coke), I asked her how she was doing. Her face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree when she responded. She then thanked me for asking because no one ever does and that it meant so much to her. I made her day, she made mine.
It truly is the little things.