Stories of Kindness from Around the World

“Smile!” I shouted, flashing a neon yellow poster at Seattle’s bustling crowd.

We were three thousand miles away from home on a Random Acts of Kindness and Volunteerism Road Trip. Our funds were running low, so we had two goals today:

1. Try out our new "Smile!" signs and see how much kindness and joy we could spread in Pike Place Market.

2. Raise a meager $20 a piece by doing street performances. Singing, drawing caricatures, storytelling -- we'd be like real life bards! Since there were four of us, this would total $80, enough for gas to Portland and a small hotel room.

We weren't sure how people would react to our signs. It's so easy to walk past a busy crowd, lost in your own world, refusing to make eye-contact with strangers, and feeling alone despite being surrounded by hundreds of people just like you. I nervously raised up our signs and shouted, "Hi there!" to a young couple. They looked over, momentarily confused, then read my sign and broke into smiles. They even nudged person beside them, gesturing to our sign so their friend could smile, too.

This might work.

Before long, our signs were wildly popular. Tourists wanted photos with us. Strangers stopped to ask us about our signs, and we told them the story of our acts of kindness road trip, then listened to their stories, too. The famous Fish Vendors changed their chant from, "FISH! FRESH FISH!" to "HEY! SMILE, EVERYONE!"

Sometimes I'd see a scowling face and feel particularly nervous to show them my bright sign. But I tried not to judge. Often, I'd be reward with a big grin, and suddenly a scowling elderly woman became, not a scary stranger, but the face of my own grandmother.

Some people asked if they could have a "Smile!" sign to carry around. One bus driver put a sign in his window; a bicyclist that took one of our signs emailed us several years later to let us know he still uses it whenever he does a race.

The signs are more than an invitation to "Smile!" They're an excuse to connect with strangers and to remember we're not alone in this world. This world is full of good people we just don't know yet.

We posed for pictures. We sang with homeless street performers. We were offered free dumplings, as vendors tried to pay it forward.

In fact, we got so wrapped up in our spectacular "Smile!" project that we forgot our other goal. Before we knew it, the sun was setting, and we had no money for our trip to Portland.

We sat down to watch a man play guitar while we thought about how on earth we'd raise the money we needed. The musician had no home, and he was blind, but he sang about hope and peace. He was packing up when suddenly a passing crowd kicked over his change jar. Change and cash scattered beneath dozens of trampling feet; he blindly stumbled into the crowd after it. We rushed to help him, but before we could get there, another man swooped in to "steal" our good deed.

Once the musician had his money safely returned, we ran over to meet the heroic do-gooder who had helped. "We saw what you did," I said. "We just wanted to compliment you on your good deed."

He smiled, looking at my signs. "Looks like you girls are out here doing some good deeds yourself. What's this all about?"

We told him about our Random Acts of Kindness and Volunteerism Road Trip. He seemed genuinely moved. "Your trip reminds me of something similar I once did when I was young," he said. "Look. I'd like to contribute."

We told him, no, no, no. We were fine. We had plenty of funds. We lied.

He interrupted us, though, saying, "I want to donate. It will make me feel like I'm part of this adventure. Please, let me."

And then this total and complete stranger opened his wallet to four people he'd never met, and he began to pull out $20. We were stunned.

"Actually..." he said, reconsidering something. "Here." He emptied his entire wallet for us.

Exactly four $20 bills. $80. Exactly what we had intended to raise that day. It's as if he somehow knew.

And while we would certainly need to figure out our finances many more times along the trip, as we were 3,000 miles and many weeks away from our own city -- somehow the magic of kindness had conspired to get us exactly what we needed, and I knew $80 was more than enough to get us back home again.

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Several years later, this man, whose name is Jared, went on his own road trip. He visited our city, and he came to volunteer with the non-profit we co-founded once we returned from the trip. He was able to see exactly what his kindness had gone towards. So often we never get to see the ripple effect of our kindness. But we are so glad he did. Here are two photos. In the first photo we're in Seattle, holding up "Smile!" signs with another member of our trip. In the second, Amber and I are with Jared when he came to volunteer for our non-profit. We bought him dinner to contribute to his trip, too. :)