Small Acts of Kindness

Can life be summarized into hours, minutes, and seconds, or is there something more?

Every day we are faced with the task of understanding the meaning of our existence. When we do so, we have a choice, walk forward, or walk away. . . For many people, it is more like running away. . . However, you can only run away from the person you are for so long; at the end of your frenzied sprint, you will find yourself exhausted and feeling a hollowness inside. It is better to face what we are, so we can become something more.

I often contemplate what the world would be like if we collectively measured our lives by what we gave the world, rather than what we acquired from it.

I am young, young enough to believe that the world can be changed through acts of kindness. I am also old, old enough to realize that I cannot do it on my own.

On an ordinary Thursday afternoon, I took an impromptu adventure into the city with a good friend of mine. We are both amateur photographers; we may not have millions of followers, but we are genuine. We walk out into the world with our cameras in hand, hoping to see something beautiful, so that we may share it with others.

I began thinking of something another friend of mine said, a long while ago. He quoted Einstein and said to me,

“There are two ways you can live your life: one is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

In the instant, I press down on the black, rounded trigger. I hear a shot being fired. The black curtain rapidly pulls away, and light floods the stage. The show has begun, and it has ended; however, in that moment of clarity, I think I may have understood what he meant.

My inner contemplation faded away as I bore witness to something that tore into the fibers of my heart. An older man was laying with his back to the wall, his feet were bare, his clothes torn, and his face was masked with a thick salt-and-pepper beard. He was crying for help, shouting at people in frustration and in disbelief, “I don’t understand why you can’t help! I am hungry and thirsty! Please . . . someone . . .anyone . . .can’t anyone help. . .”

The heart of the empath is susceptible to flooding; I was drowning in a sea of emotions. First I felt immense sadness because the desperation in his voice echoed in my bones. Then a white-hot anger filled me, “how can people be so cruel, he is a human being, he has the right to live!” In the end, my heart whispered to me, “be the first to help, and perhaps others will see.” I patted my friend on the shoulder and gave him a knowing look, and said, “I have to.”

I approached the disheartened man and introduced myself, and he introduced himself as “Geezus” like Jesus, but with a “G” and "Z" he explained. I asked him, “ is there something I could get you to eat?” His eyes began to flood with tears, so he quickly jerked his head to the side, so I would not notice. With a tightly coiled body, he said, “I would be very happy with a cheeseburger and a coke.” I was happy to oblige, I walked over to the nearest food cart, and ordered just that. The owner asked me, “is it for him?” I could see that he was genuinely surprised, but not quite sure how he felt about it. I spoke to him with sincerity in my voice and said, “it is for the brother I never knew.” I looked at the $20 bill in my wallet, and handed it to the man with a smile, and said, “until the next time, thank you.”

I walked over to Geezus and gave him the lunch he requested, and noticed that he was deep in conversation with my friend. His whole demeanor had changed in the time it took for me to walk away, and walk back. His shoulders relaxed, and his arm rested on one knee as he leaned forward in conversation. Most importantly there was a smile on his face, and light in his eyes. He thanked me for the meal and wished us well. Before we left, my friend took his portrait:

We went along with our day, and the thought occurred to me, “what if I dedicated the remaining $13 in my wallet to helping others?”

I gave $5 to a Buddhist monk trying to build a temple. Then I placed $3 in the cup of a man that was sleeping, followed by another $4 for a woman that said she was pregnant.

As for the last dollar, I simply dropped into the street. Perhaps, someone who was feeling a little down on their luck would find it, and it would brighten their day.

Although I went into the city that day to find something beautiful; I came to realize that the greatest beauty we can experience is in giving to others. Perhaps I am simply young and naive, but I believe that small acts of kindness can change the world. As for the matter of “when” will the world change; well, that is entirely up to you.