The ultimate random act of kindness

Tonight I was a reminded of a story from my childhood. When I was a little girl I loved going to work with my dad, especially when we lived in New York. There was just something about the big city that I loved: the smell of the bakeries, the hustle and bustle of people, counting the taxis and limos from many stories up in my dad’s office building. One day when I was about six years old I got to go to work with my dad. I was so excited. I picked out a pretty dress to wear with tights and mary-janes to match. I packed a bag full of books, coloring pages, and crayons. I needed something to keep me busy while dad was working! (my parents had a rule that we weren’t allowed to go to work with dad until we knew how to read and hopefully that meant “keep ourselves busy”) Then it began…the 2-hour car ride into the city. It was only 30 miles, so that 2 hours felt like an eternity! I usually took a nap on the way there. Then we parked the car and walked several blocks to dad’s office building. It always seemed like everyone was going SO FAST. Everyone always seemed to be in a hurry and they even looked a little mean. Well my legs weren’t very long yet, so I was hurrying to keep up…then all of a sudden I tripped. I must have run into a curb or a crack in the sidewalk or something. It felt like there were so many people around us and I was so embarrassed, and was also in some physical pain. When I fell I scraped my legs and the rough concrete tore holes in my tights. I looked up and realized that I had dropped my bag and it seemed like everything had gone everywhere. My papers, my books, and my crayons were all over the sidewalk. Then for a split second it felt like everyone around us got quiet. People stopped and were looking at me and started coming towards me. Of course at this point, my dad was getting concerned and being the protective dad that he is, he kind of covered me so they couldn’t do anything to me. So, what did those busy New Yorkers do? They started picking up my things. Maybe they were stealing it? No…they started handing things back to us so we could put them in my bag, and they were making sure I was okay. As soon as everything was picked up and they saw that I was okay, everybody put their stern faces back on and took off walking again.

That day taught me a lesson that has stuck with me for the rest of my life: people aren’t always who they appear to be. Therefore, don't judge a book by it's cover. That random act of kindness touched me so much. Looking back I’m amazed. These were business people who had places to go and people to see, yet they stopped to help me. I think back to that and then I look at my life now, and I’m disappointed in myself. I’m disappointed in the fact that I so often put my own needs before others. I’m “busy,” so I often don’t look for little ways to help others. I get so wrapped up in all the things I need to do, that it's so easy to put myself first. But I can't think of anything that I can do for myself that could possibly be more important than serving and showing the love of Christ to someone else.  I hope I always remember this story and how such a seemingly small thing can make such a huge impact.  It reminds me of how important it is to focus more on others than myself.  

Then as I was driving home from Pullman tonight I started thinking about a greater story: one that defines sacrificial love. That story is of Jesus paying the ultimate sacrifice of death for my sins. I am called to love sacrificially and the most important example I can follow is that of the gospel and Jesus Christ’s sacrificial love for me. If I’ve been given life through Him, how much more am I called to share that life and love with those around me?