Acts of Kindness

Good deeds, like so much in this world, are born and not made. Any one particular good deed, at its inception, is little more than an idea. A stray thought in the back of someone’s mind, waiting to escape. Like an acorn, waiting to germinate in the warmth of Springtime.

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It’s 3:41 pm on March 27th, a warm sunny day near the beginning of a pandemic. Right now, like during any other time of crisis, a simple good deed now can mean so much.

A light breeze swirls around a cherry blossom tree, sending a cascade of petals towards the ground. Katya Massimo, an exhausted nurse arriving home from her job at St. Gianna's Hospital, gets a petal caught in her hair. Her work has been harrowing. But she clings to the feeling of wanting to help people no matter what. It’s the perfect fertiliser for the good deed germinating in the back of her mind.

She enters her apartment building. A neighbour passes her, being careful not to step too close, a blue fabric mask covering his face. Katya recognises him, even though they’ve never spoken. Inside her head, the good deed stirs. She gives him a warm smile as she passes. Her face may be hidden by a mask, but he sees it all the same.

The good deed is born. Small and unassuming, but full of potential.

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At 3:57 pm, Javier Ortega arrives at the supermarket For his evening shift. He doesn’t relish it. Evening shifts are always the most tiring. Today, though, he feels a little lighter than usual. The good deed is wrapped around his mind now, giving him a little feeling of warmth. Even with the social distancing, a small, shared moment with his neighbour felt nice as he left for work. He realises he doesn’t even know her name.

As Javier walks past parked cars, he sees an elderly woman struggling to load some large bags of groceries into her car. The good deed sees her too. It whispers something into Javier’s mind.

He asks if she’d like some help, taking care not to get close enough to make her uncomfortable. Politely, she declines. She can manage. But just an offer of help from a stranger means a lot to her. As she drives home the good deed settles over her head like a warm, cozy hood.

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It's 5:35 pm. Warm golden sunlight gives the world a honeyed sheen, and fluffy clouds scoot across a slightly hazy blue sky as Yulia Sagendorf arrives home with a car full of groceries. There’s a lot but she can manage. With the good deed draped snugly over her shoulders, she keeps thinking of the young man at the supermarket, who offered to help her. Such a kind little gesture, she thinks to herself, should not be such an uncommon thing.

Carefully and methodically, she unloads her groceries from her car, swabbing them down with antiseptic wipes, before putting them away in her kitchen cupboards. As she does, she glances out of her kitchen window. In the house next door, a young woman sits alone with a modest plate of food.

The good deed sends a warm tingling sensation through Yulia’s chest, as her hand lingers over the groceries she’s putting away. She makes a decision. The good deed swirls inside her. It wants to be sent on its way.

That evening, Yulia works in her kitchen. Baking is something she’s spent her entire life doing. For her, this is just a relaxing evening activity. And, as her grandmother always used to say, the only thing better than making food to enjoy is making food to share. It’s a happy little memory for her, and it makes the good deed swell a little, working with her to put a little extra effort into the dish she’s making.

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On the morning of March 28th, there’s still a slight bite of cold in the air. The last remnants of lazy morning mists hang over the valley, as the morning sunlight slices through them. At 10:02 am, Lola van Alphen hears her doorbell ring.

Opening her front door, she finds a round biscuit tin on her doorstep. Whoever left it there has already gone. With a shrug, she picks it up to carry it inside. As she does so, she picks up the good deed too. It slips into her hands, running up her arms like a warm breeze.

Inside her lounge, Lola’s eyes light up as she opens the tin to find a freshly made lemon drizzle cake. Tucked inside the side of the tin, is a small handwritten note from a neighbour. A woman named Yulia.

With a smile, Lola puts her kettle on to make some tea to enjoy with the cake. Pleased with how much it’s already accomplished, the good deed starts to grow. It curls up snugly in the back of Lola’s mind like a slumbering cat, as she spends her morning watching news reports on television.

There’s so much trouble in the world. Enjoying a slice of cake, Lola thinks to herself how such a simple thing can brighten her entire day. She feels compelled to put something good back out into the world. Anything, no matter how small. The good deed stirs in her mind.

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It’s 1:27 pm, and the skies have grown overcast. But the good deed keeps Lola warm, wrapped around her neck like a woollen scarf.

She walks into her local grocery store, its aromas of dried spices and fresh fruit muted by the mask covering her face. Hurriedly, she picks up a couple of essentials for her home. She doesn’t want to spend too long in an enclosed public space like this. Thankfully, the queue at the checkout counter is short.

The man in front of her is carefully placing the things he’s just bought into a backpack, as quickly as they’re scanned past the till. After the cashier scans the last item, the man waves a credit card over the contactless card scanner. The reader lets out a loud beep. Transaction declined. With a frown, he looks to the cashier, who tells him to try again. He does so. Transaction declined.

Nervously, the man starts to look through his wallet and pockets to see if he has any cash to pay. Lola takes a closer look at the checkout counter, squinting her eyes a little to see the display. The man’s things aren’t too expensive. Just a few essentials, like hers.

Lola steps forward and offers to pay for them. The man tries to protest but she holds up a hand and insists. She waves her card over the scanner. Transaction accepted. She’s not wealthy by any measure, but this isn’t too much for her to afford. It won’t be a problem. She can simply adjust her budget for the week.

Lola gives the man a reassuring smile. As he picks up his bag, he picks up the good deed along with it.

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It’s 1:41 pm, and the skies are grey and heavy with rain. A chill wind stirs fallen cherry blossom petals, accumulating in corners of the pavement, by the side of the road. Ravi Patel steps out into the cool air. He’s still dumbfounded by the woman who paid for his groceries. He thanked her profusely, but it still didn’t feel like enough. Lola. that was the name he noticed on her credit card. He wonders if he’ll ever see her again.

He breathes a sigh and starts to walk home, thanking whichever gods may have been smiling on him. The good deed curls up around his shoulders like a warm scarf. It comforts him, and keeps him warm despite the cold weather. Quietly, it whispers to him that it’s ok to accept help from others. After all, that’s part of what makes us human.

At 2:04 pm, the gathering clouds become too dense. Rain starts to fall in cold, heavy drops, pelting the ground and washing fallen cherry blossom petals into the gutter. Ravi reaches into his bag and pulls out a folding umbrella, extending it to keep himself dry. Raindrops, like tiny drumsticks, beat out a rhythm on the stretched fabric as he holds it up. A shiver runs through him as the temperature drops, making him quicken his pace. Won't be long now. Not far home from here.

He stops to cross the road. The traffic is sparse, but the cars are spaced evenly enough that he needs to wait. To his right, another person is also waiting for the lights to change

A tall, dark skinned woman wearing a thin shirt and a pair of jeans. Her arms are crossed over her chest, shivering, as she tries to retain what little warmth she can. Ravi steals a glance at her and a ripple of sympathy runs across his chest. Her clothes are soaked through.

The good deed stirs, making Ravi's shoulders tingle. He looks across the road. He can already see his home from here. Turning up the collar on his jacket, he holds out his umbrella, offering it to the woman standing at the crossing.

She seems surprised and unsure how to react. Ravi explains that it’s no problem, pointing to his home just metres away. With a nervous smile, she accepts the umbrella from him. The good deed passes to her. It can’t keep her dry, but its very presence makes her feel a little warmer.

The lights change. The two cross the road, and turn to walk in opposite directions.

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It’s 2:28 pm, and the skies are still dark and heavy. The rain has eased slightly, but the wind has picked up. Uzoma Sani shivers, with her skin already prickled into goosebumps under her damp shirt. Stepping into her home, she closes and folds the umbrella which a stranger gave her earlier. What a strange and fortunate thing to happen! She wonders who the man even was. Normally she’s apprehensive about accepting things from strangers, but something about him had seemed surprisingly genuine.

Leaving the umbrella by her front door, she heads to the bathroom, picking up a towel to pat her hair dry. Its dense curls are still weighed down with rainwater, but they’re already starting to dry. Still blotting the water out of her hair, she wanders to her bedroom to change into some dry clothes. But she no longer feels cold. The good deed is wrapped around her like a blanket, sending a comforting feeling into her shoulders.

The next morning, March 29th, is still cold and overcast, but at least the rain has stopped. Puddles of water still line the streets, but they’re starting to slowly evaporate. Much like good deeds, water isn’t meant to accumulate in one place forever. It too wants to continue its journey.

It’s 8:43 am as Uzoma steps off a bus, fighting the urge to adjust the mask on her face. She isn’t used to wearing it yet, but she can adjust. She has no choice, really. All staff in the department store where she works are considered essential workers. Uzoma thinks this is absurd, but she needs the money. She can’t simply quit.

As she walks to work from the bus, her attention is caught by raised voices. She looks to see an angry, red-faced man. He isn’t wearing a mask, and he’s hurling insults. His target is a short, East Asian-looking man with narrow shoulders. Like a startled cat, the good deed rises up inside her, filling her chest with a shiver of adrenaline.

Her brow creased with a heavy scowl, Uzoma steps in and gives the man a piece of her mind. She acts on impulse, without thinking twice. Normally she’d try to avoid men like this. She’s dealt with them before and knows how unpleasant they can be, especially towards Black women like herself.

Inwardly, she worries how this might go, but she bottles that feeling up before it can reach her face. The good deed helps, massaging her shoulders to help her keep her cool. Uzoma is taller than this man, and she uses that to her advantage. She stares him down silently. Eventually, muttering under his breath, he backs down and skulks away.

When he’s a safe distance from her, Uzoma turns her attention to the other man. He seems shaken, but assures her he’s fine, thanking her before she leaves to head to work. The good deed whispers into Uzoma’s ear how proud it is of her. Then it parts company with her, wrapping itself around the man with narrow shoulders, as both continue to their workplaces.

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It’s 9:14 am. Ryota Sato stands behind the checkout counter where he works, with its clear plastic screen. Greenish fluorescent lights illuminate the aisles. The supermarket is still mostly empty. Early morning is reserved for elderly or vulnerable people to collect their groceries before anyone else, making it feel strangely peaceful.

Still reeling from the incident outside, Ryota sits on a stool behind the checkout counter. The good deed is curled up around his heart. It warms his chest, comforting him. Calming him down. In his mind, he goes over what happened. He doesn’t know who the tall woman was, but he’s glad she was there. He wishes he’d had time to thank her properly.

A lot of people seem irrationally angry at Chinese people recently. Probably looking for somewhere to vent their frustration over the virus. Ryota isn’t Chinese, but many seem unwilling to even try and recognise that. With his thin frame, he makes an easy target for these people. He doubts whether he could defend himself if he needed to. The good deed tries to comfort him, reassuring him that it’s ok.

Ryota’s phone buzzes in his pocket. A text message. His brother Koji is sick with the coronavirus and is being taken to hospital. He hastily stuffs his phone into his pocket, as a customer steps up to the counter, but the worry stays in his mind and on his face. As soon as he can, he makes arrangements to leave work. His colleague, Javier Ortega, kindly agrees to help cover his shifts. Ryota won’t be paid for his absence, but he doesn’t care. This is more important.

It's 12:04pm at St. Gianna's Hospital. The corridors are buzzing with nurses and doctors, their faces pale and haggard looking from working long hours without enough time to rest. There's little free time for them, doing everything they can to care for the influx of sick patients. Ryota stands at a window, looking into a hospital ward. It's the closest anyone will allow Ryota to get to his brother. His eyes prickle as he looks in, unsure if Koji can even see him. But that doesn’t matter. He needs to be here. In his ear, the good deed whispers to him that he’s doing all he can.

A nurse approaches Ryota, telling him that she can’t let him stay here. The name on her badge reads, Katya Massimo. She promises that they’ll let Ryota know the moment his brother’s condition changes.

For the next several days, Ryota sits inside his car, parked as close to the hospital as he can. He keeps his phone on the dashboard, not knowing when someone might call. He knows he’ll have less money to spend on food this month. Time off work like this will not be paid. But he doesn’t care. All that matters is that he’ll be there for his brother, if and when he’s needed. All the while, the good deed keeps him company, filling his mind with reassuring thoughts.

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At 7:14 pm on April 20th, a warm evening breeze blows in through Koji Sato’s window, carrying evening birdsong and the faint aroma of freshly baked bread. Koji sits in his lounge, still weak from his ordeal but feeling much better. The doctors say he’s no longer infectious, but he should try to rest. The good deed fills his chest with warmth, keeping him company. Giving him a little more strength. He feels lucky to have such a caring brother.

The sound of someone coughing pricks his ears. On the other side of his apartment wall. A neighbour who he’s never spoken to. But their coughing fills Koji with a feeling of sympathy. He knows just how it feels. Picking up his phone, he sends a text to Ryota. The good deed types it with him.

Two hours later, there’s a knock on his door. He opens it to find Ryota holding a cardboard box. Inside it, a collection of groceries. Mostly basic essentials, like rice, flour, and vegetables. But there are a few luxuries in there too. Butterscotch cookies. Some colourful cupcakes. A bottle of fresh fruit juice. Koji gives his brother a broad smile and hands him some money to cover the cost. With a little extra as a thank you. He can’t thank his brother as much as he’d like. Not really. But every little will help.

Koji takes the box into his apartment and places it on his kitchen table. He doesn’t unpack anything. These things are not for him.

The morning of April 21st is warm, and sunlight streams in through the windows of Koji’s apartment building. It’s 11:11 am, and the air is beginning to smell like summer, with the scent of grass and flowers on the breeze. With his face covered by a mask, Koji knocks on his neighbour’s door. The door is opened cautiously. A tired looking woman answers, with unkempt hair and a mask over her face too. Koji bows his head politely and tells her that he hopes these will help. The woman is hesitant, but Koji explains that he’s already had the virus.

The woman struggles to suppress a cough as Koji places the box on her doorstep, before stepping back. He gives her a reassuring smile, and a nod, before returning to his apartment.

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Nasra Mila carefully picks up the box of groceries from her doorstep, carrying it into her home. But her muscles feel so weak and full of aches. She puts it down on the floor and closes the door, covering her mouth with her elbow as she coughs.

There’s enough food here to last for a week or two. Sitting on top of it all, is a small origami crane, folded from red paper with colourful patterns. Nasra feels a tear of gratitude roll down her face, as the good deed curls up inside her. It fills her with renewed strength. Just knowing that someone cares means the world to her, but she never expected something like this. Not from someone she’s never even spoken to before.

She’ll put these things away in her kitchen later, when she can. Carefully, on shaking legs, she goes to lie back down on her sofa. Her chest feels tight, but the good deed helps her breathe ever so slightly easier.

With a smile, she picks up her phone to tell some friends of hers on the internet about what just happened. She still can’t believe it. What even is her neighbour’s name? She’s not sure. She knows she’s seen the name on the mailboxes downstairs though. Does it begin with a K? She makes a mental note to find out, so she can thank him properly.

As she scrolls through posts on social media, one in particular catches her eye. Written by someone who’s clearly in trouble. They need help to pay their rent. She sits up a little as she reads it. The good deed sees it too, but it doesn’t want to leave Nasra yet. She still needs its comfort. Perhaps, it thinks to itself, perhaps it’s now time.

The good deed swirls in Nasra’s mind, creating a thought. Tiny, like a seed, but powerful. The inception of a new idea. Nasra looks over towards her doorway, where she left the box. Her eyes start to sting with tears at such an act of kindness. An intense feeling of gratitude fills her chest. It’s the perfect fertiliser for the new good deed germinating in the back of her mind.

Nasra looks at the social media post on her screen. She doesn’t recognise the name. A friend of a friend of a friend of a friend. No more than a stranger to her. But that doesn’t matter. They need help.

Clicking the link in the post, Nasra taps her phone screen to send some money. She can afford it. She has savings to fall back on. A warm glow fills her as she hits send. She closes her eyes for a moment, pleased with the feeling that she could help someone else. The good deed wraps around her like a warm blanket, pleased that it can stay here with her until she's better.

Somewhere, in another part of the world, someone's phone receives a message, arriving in their hand with a newborn good deed. They breathe a sigh of relief. Rescued from the threat of eviction and homelessness by someone they’ll never meet in person. They can still barely believe that just one person covered their entire rent payment for the month!

The fledgling good deed settles inside the back of their mind, filling their thoughts with warm sunlight. This new good deed is already much more powerful than the one which gave birth to it. And its work is only just beginning.

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It’s April 22nd, and sunlight warms the world. Birdsong fills the air, intermingling with the faint aroma of freshly baked pastries and black coffee.

Yulia Sagendorf checks her mailbox, to find a packet of aromatic tea posted through her door by Lola van Alphen. She smiles, reading the small handwritten note attached to it, and goes to her kitchen to find her teapot. Heading to work for his morning shift, Ryota Sato passes Uzoma Sani. Recognising her instantly, he gives her a shy wave, and she replies with a big smile which makes the day feel a little brighter.

A light breeze stirs the branches of a cherry tree. It knocks the last of the cherry blossom petals away, carrying them through the warm Springtime air. A single petal drifts in through the open window of Katya Massimo’s apartment, as she sits down with a steaming cup of coffee. She sips it slowly, enjoying a little calm before she has to leave for work. She smiles to herself, unaware of all the lives which were affected by the good deed which was born one afternoon from a smile just like it.

In the back of Katya’s mind, another stray thought starts to form. Like an acorn, waiting to germinate in the warmth of Springtime.

This work may be whimsical fiction, but each of these little tales is based on a real life story, both from myself and from friends of mine.