Stories of Kindness from Around the World

Last night I traveled by train. The rampant xenophobia surfacing after the terror attacks has really been on my mind. Shunning the very victims and refugees of horrible aggression has weighed deeply on my heart. How could we turn on people because of their religion, culture or skin color? How could we turn on people who are undergoing such suffering? Are we so narrow?

I have been contemplating about what I can do. Could I take in a refugee? I want to somehow reach out to these disaffected people.
I boarded the train yesterday. The train was empty so I took the prime group seating at the end of the car so I would be facing forward.

Shortly thereafter a mother and her three children squeezed into the row of seats in front of me. I asked the mother if she would like my group seating for her family and she gratefully accepted. They looked unlike me. Their skin was darker and they all had beautiful brown eyes. There was a baby boy, a six year old boy and an eight year old girl and their Mom.

The woman was wearing clothes that were different. Her skirt was hand crafted from beautifully woven fabric with beautiful but subtle colors. I don't think you could ever find the clothes she was wearing at any store. I could feel the love of the people who crafted these garments. I could feel the reverence and gratitude that she had for these clothes. They weren't expensive, formal, fancy or from a famous designer yet they were priceless. I was struck by the beautiful simplicity of these garments.

The little girl's name was Hanaan. Hanaan’s and my eyes met and locked. She smiled broadly and kept her gaze fixed on my eyes. I think I could see deep into this girls soul through those amazing eyes. We engaged in conversation. I was about to receive a gift that I had been hoping for. I had hoped to connect with people from a culture that was currently suffering and in my presence was a warm and inviting Pakistani family. People that are now unjustly scrutinized and shunned by many in fear.

I asked Hanaan the standard conversation starters that one might normally ask a child. How old are you? Where do you go to school? Where were you born? Have you ever been to Pakistan? This was a child but the depth and breadth of our conversation took to amazing heights. What was even more remarkable was the unspoken conversation. Her smile, her gaze and her trust touched me deeply.

I learned about her curriculum in third grade. She told me about her school play, "Gifts from the Sea". She told me she would be singing in the chorus. This was her first train ride but she seemed more interested in me than anything else. She was very interested to know my elementary school experience and she wondered if mine perhaps paralleled hers. It did but this little girl was different than I was. She was so attentive and inquiring. She was a listener, an intellectual.

Her little brothers were adorable and they vied for attention from time to time. The toddler wanted to give me high fives. The six year old was well behaved but had boundless energy. Mom was too often apologizing for her daughter engaging in such long and in depth conversation. I continually told her not to worry.

Not to worry? I could not have been happier. Gifts were being bestowed upon me. Hanaan continued to engage me. "What countries have you been to? What did you learn in geography? What kind of things did you learn about the different States? Do you have brothers and sisters? Where were you born?" This girl was genuine in wanting to know about me! "Do you know your multiplication tables?" I answered in the affirmative but that wasn't good enough for Hanaan. I was thoroughly tested starting with the easy tables and she progressively made them harder and harder. She told me I was good. She encouraged me, "how did you do that?" Her smile never once ceased. She wanted to know if I learned fractions in the third grade? I am 58 years old and she wanted to know all about my elementary school education.

She told me about the places she had been. She never spoke of the things in those places. It was always about the joy she experienced being with the people she was with.

I asked if they celebrated the same holidays as Indian people? “Do you celebrate Diwali?” Mom spoke up with some discomfort, "No but we do have some holidays in common and we share a common language." Hanaan chimed in a more serious and somber tone, "Our neighbor doesn't like us." She quickly left that thought behind turned her attention to the neighbor that does like her. Me!

Our 45 minutes together flew by on that train ride but I think we will always be in each other's hearts. I wanted to hug them all but I was unsure if it was appropriate in their culture. When I thought about it, we were already in each other's embrace.

I had been wondering what I could do for those who are disaffected. In forty five minutes this little girl taught me. I just opened my door and they came in. They loved me and comforted me just by being.

I think we are all disaffected and we all can do something for one another. It is amazing what happens when you open your door. People come in bearing beautiful gifts. It all started with a kind gesture, two smiles and a hello. I am wearing Hanaan's smile today. Maybe that smile will welcome more strangers to love. Thank you Hanaan for the blessing! You are a wonderful ambassador of peace and love. I am so glad that you are part of our community.