I recently had lunch with some friends at our local brewery restaurant. Each time I have visited this popular establishment, I've noticed a disheveled man always sitting at the end of the bar. His gray hair sticks out in all directions under his hat. His coat is old and worn. He never smiles or looks up.
He may be known as the town drunk, I suppose. I decided to give him a SMILE card along with a $10 bill anonymously through the bartender. He probably will spend it on more beer. But who am I to judge? I asked his name. To me that was the real act of kindness--to ask his name and put an identity on a face that most ignore. Next time I will say, "Hello, Morris, how is your day?"
Yesterday I needed the cable repairman to come and fix our phone and internet. I was irritated with the company because it has been twice in the past two months we have had to call for these issues.
The repairman was prompt and efficient. He fixed our problem in less than an hour. I did not show my frustration to him, just went about my day while he worked. Before he left, we began talk
ing about my woodstove and how much I love using real firewood to warm up the room during the winter months.
He said that last year he had to keep his stove blazing because his wife was very frail. I asked how she was doing.He replied she passed away from bone cancer. I felt tears welling up and asked if I could give him a hug. He smiled shyly and said yes.
Sometimes a hug might just help aid the healing of the wounds of grief. Always be kind, you never know the path of another. Even this flower knows how to hug!