There is no small kind act

"Remember, there’s no such thing as a small act of kindness. 

The originating act of a warm hug!

Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.” Scott Adams

What splendid, unending ripples can your life send out today?

Pass it on!

“Have you had a kindness shown? Pass it on;

'twas not given for thee alone, pass it on;

Let it travel down the years, let it wipe another's tears,

till in heaven the deed appears, pass it on.”

Henry Burton (English clergyman 1840-1930)

Goodness expands, multiplies, as we share it.  Goodness is funny that way.  Things, physical things, diminish as we share them -- only so many pieces of blueberry pie, and then it's gone.

But goodness isn't a thing, it's an attitude; it comes from an infinite source -- like a freshwater spring that never runs dry.  We aren't depleted by passing along our cheer, our goodwill, our warm approval of things beautiful.

And maybe, as Reverend Burton says, it's a duty.  Whatever kindness has been shown you, in the broader scheme of things, wasn't intended just for you.  Lest it shrivel for want of light and joy, pass it on!  You'll feel happier for having participated.

Beauty as a kindness.

Our lives -- an open book

This email has been around before; its message is ever timely.

His name is Tim. He has wild hair, wears a crumpled T-shirt, jeans with holes, and flip-flops. This was his wardrobe for his entire four years of college. He is bright, thoughtful, and a gentle guy.

Across the street from the campus is a well-coifed, very conservative church congregation. They want to develop a ministry to the students but are not sure how to go about it.

Enter Tim, clad in flip flops, jeans, T-shirt, and wild hair. The service has already started and so Tim starts down the aisle looking for a seat. The church is packed and he can't find a seat. By now,people are shifting uneasily, but no one says anything, and no one moves over to make a place for him.

Tim gets closer and closer to the pulpit. When he realizes there are no seats up front, he sits down in the aisle. Some smile, but most are uncomfortable with Tim's innocent break with tradition.

The minister sees peripherally, even while he is preaching, way from the back of the church, a deacon slowly making his way toward Tim. This deacon is in his eighties, sports dignified silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit.

He's a godly man, elegant and courtly as he comes down the aisle. Everyone has pretty much tuned out the sermon, and is saying to themselves that you can't blame him for what he's going to do. How can you expect a man of his age and background to understand some college kid perched on the floor?

It takes an eternity for the man to reach the boy. His cane taps rhythmically as all eyes focus on him. The minister clears his throat and waits. And now this elderly Christian drops his cane on the floor. With some difficulty, he lowers himself and sits down next to Tim, smiles at him, and worships with him so he won't be alone.

The congregation is pretty much stunned, embarrassed, silent. Yet everyone begins to breathe again.

The minister sighs deeply, then says, "What I'm preaching today, you will probably not remember. What you have seen today, let's hope you will never forget."

Hmm. What if your life, and mine,
are the only Bible some people will ever read?

Some things are better than winning

Rick Reilly's headline says, "There are some games when cheering for the other side feels better than winning."

This is a "feel good" story that happens to be good enough to be true.

I encourage you to Click Here for an uplift to your day.

A happy surpirse

Following our guide -

home!

On our last day in Jerusalem, our guide’s wife invited our whole busload of Americans and Canadians to have afternoon tea and cookies in their apartment.

What fun to be welcomed into their home. To be, for an hour or so, in a family – a warmth and affection worlds away from hotels and buses and tourist stops. To hear who’s who in family photographs, to inquire about vacations and hobbies.

Suddenly conversation ceases as the sobering answer to a naive question is the holocaust. Only our hosts’ grandparents survived. None of the grandparents’ siblings or family. Suddenly the barbarity of genocide past, hits home. We are talking to direct descendents of a few survivors. This country is full of such descendents.

The hosts deftly move the conversation to lighter topics. We snap their photos. It’s time to return to the bus, and dinner, and the airport.

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Picture this large tour bus on a small quiet residential street in Jerusalem, moving carefully between cars parked on both sides. We spill out, following Mishi like children behind the pied piper.

Police in a squad car, blocked behind our bus, beckon Mishi who they know is a tour guide. He has a brief conversation, then returns to the sidewalk grinning.

“What was that about?” we ask.

“They asked me, ‘What could possibly be of historical interest in this neighborhood?’”

“I said, ‘I am bringing them to my home!”

It was truly special.

I am smiling still.

Lunch in Vancouver clouds!

Karin Heath at Camp Bow-Isle

shares her delicious homemade cookies!

My first clue that these women were serious hikers came when Joan offered some “hockey tape” for protecting friction areas on my (tender Midwestern American) feet. No, she didn’t need any tape for a short (8-hour) hike like this one.

So we walked a couple of blocks to the bus (I am learning to appreciate communities with good public transportation!), connected with Elaine and Shirley, caught the ferry and, following a ten-minute trip across the water, walked off the ferry into a quaint little village.

Some background: I knew Joan was a hiker, and when she invited me to visit her and Jim, I asked if we might do some hiking. She graciously arranged a very special trip with her hiking club (another clue) to Elaine’s A-frame on the Bowen Island.

So now from the village straight into the forest we trekked, first to a pre-season tour of summer Camp Bow-Isle which Joan had kindly arranged. Karin Heath graciously shared her delicious cookies with us, and we eagerly scarfed down more than was polite.

Her husband and camp director, Jon, and their black lab graciously guided us straight up through a magnificent pine forest for about an hour, to connect us with the path to our luncheon view.

After lunch. Notice the fog/coud to Elaine's left.

We lunched near the summit of Mount Gardiner on a cloud-drenched slanty rock – empty plastic bags serving as sit-upons and keeping our bottoms dry. Surrounded by a mist of gray tree trunks, we munched happily, nonetheless, on very good sandwiches on home-made bread.

This day I learned the grace of friends and total strangers. Seasoned hikers that they were, they could have reached the lunch rock an hour earlier had they not frequently and cheerfully, it must be added, stopped and waited for their Illinois "flatland" novice to catch up.

Being on the receiving end of compassion and patience – over and over – was something new for me. It’s amazing how humble and grateful at the same time, it makes you feel.

Changing people's lives - by example

Dan didn't ignore the world's evil.

He just greeted it on his own terms

-- with a smile.

My husband’s dad was a gem. As mentioned in a previous post, he was a consistently happy man. He didn’t ignore the slings and arrows – the unkind, impatient, or evil things of the world. He just chose to meet the world on his own terms – upbeat and cheerfully, with a solid conviction in the inevitability of good.

His daughter Janeen and his wife Rachel recently held a celebration of his life on the West Coast for Dan’s friends and relations out there. They put a great deal of love and care into an interactive presentation that would speak to the hearts of his many friends.

In preparation, Janeen solicited memories by email, and they poured in. I’m told the celebration was a great success, with many people coming despite a major national sports event the same afternoon.

Here’s one of those memories that perfectly defines Dan. I hope you enjoy it. His (other) daughter-in-law wrote:

One time I was with Dan in his car. He was making a turn, and I think he was too far over in someone's driving lane. Well this guy does his angry beep, beep, beep da beep beeps. And then flips Dan the finger.

Dan put his hand up and out of the window, wiggled it in a very friendly like gesture, as if he were waving to a dear, long-lost friend. As we passed the other car, I noticed this guy had an angry, dumbfounded look on his face. Mine probably looked much the same. I exclaimed "Dan, didn't you see what he did ?"

Dan said, "Ooooooooooooooooooh yes, Randi dear." (As only Dan can say it.)

I was very confused and said "Dan, they gave you the finger!"

Dan said, "I know Randi dear, I was giving them all of mine."

So now if anyone flips me off. I just wave back at them with all my fingers and smile. It leaves them with their mouths hanging open, unsatisfied and quite confused. They think I did not get their message. I did, of course. I just prefer to give Dan's message back.

What a tribute to this man. Short of stature, he was big of heart. He never let others control his happiness. He lived a life of choosing to be happy. And by his example, Randi’s attitude towards adversity changed to one of taking charge!

And here is a little poem he liked. It’s simple message may help explain his perpetually cheerful outlook. The title is longer than the poem!

“Minimal Couplet for Praising God and Holding One's Own Joy,” by Neil Millar.

Just
Trust

That’s Dan. He forever trusted in the ultimate triumph of good.

Previous tribute to this happy man.

Twinkies and a generous heart

Someone sent this email story. It's a simple reminder that God can enter our lives in many ways when we are willing.

Although this encounter was clearly written about an earlier era when parents would not be alarmed if their children spent a day in the park with a stranger, the message is timeless. An honest act of generosity and acceptance can fill another's whole day with joy. And the blessing can, and should, be mutual.

A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of root beer and he started his journey.

Three blocks away, he met an old man sitting in the park, just staring at some pigeons. The boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase. He noticed the old man looking hungry, so he offered him a Twinkie. He gratefully accepted and smiled at the boy.

His smile so lit up his face that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a root beer. Again, the man smiled and the boy was delighted. They sat most of the day, smiling and eating, and never saying a word.

As the shadows lengthened, the boy realized it was getting late, and he needed to go home, so he got up to leave. But before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around and ran back to give the old man a hug. It was then that he received the biggest smile ever and felt the strongest, gentlest hug he'd ever received.

As he entered his home his mother asked, "What did you do today that makes you so happy? You're simply beaming!"

"I had lunch with God. You know what? He has the most beautiful smile I ever saw!"

Meanwhile, the old man was returning to his shelter, radiant with joy. Staffers noticed the look of peace and contentment on his face. "Where have you been; what have you done?" they asked.

And his answer was, "I ate Twinkies in the park with God. You know, he's much younger than I expected."

The universal language of kindness

The scratching post

“Kindness is a language we all understand
Even the blind can see it

and the deaf can hear it.” Mother Theresa

And animals understand it.

Kindness is so needed, and sometimes seems so understocked in the world’s inventory. Yet each of us has the ability to multiply the supply!

I hope this simple example doesn’t sound too trivial.

I recently took my cat to have his claws clipped. Although he tries to cooperate and uses his scratching post regularly, sometimes when his claws grow out, he forgets and stretches them on the carpet. After this happens a couple of times, he goes to Victoria for a clipping.

The grooming room at the back of her house can be a cacophony – clippers buzzing, a small pooch yipping for attention, her shop vac inhaling clippings from the floor.

Buster clung to the sides of his carrier defying gravity as I tried to pour him onto the grooming table. So I released the knobs that allow you to separate the top from the bottom of the carrier and picked him up.

We stepped back as Victoria vacuumed poodle fur from the floor. Clinging to me like Velcro, Buster wasn’t about to let go of his one security in that room.

"Oh, you don't have to put him down," she said. Victoria finished her vacuuming, came right over to the frightened feline, gently lifted each paw from my jacket and clipped his nails. In 30 seconds he was done, and back inside what he considered the safety of his carrier.

Afterwards I thought a lot about her kindness to an infrequent cat client. Kindness comes from the heart. In giving kindness, we don’t lose anything; we increase the world’s inventory and improve our own.

I believe God put kindness into each of us as an essential ingredient of our character.

Yet for some of us, acting on our caring seems to come more naturally than to others. Sometimes harsh circumstances bury individual goodness for awhile, maybe for years. But it is God’s design for mankind to express goodness and caring. And being the recipient of thoughtfulness serves to remind us that that’s our nature too.

This, I think, is the secret of kindness:

We see eye to eye and know as we are known,
reciprocate kindness and work wisely,
in proportion as we love.
Mary Baker Eddy

Not in proportion as we are loved, but in proportion as we give love to our world. When we need help, a loving God shows us how to discover this love and share it.

The simplicity of kindness

Helping is natural

We are discussing kindness. And in that context Ron emails: “Saying Yes to loving our fellow man, is saying No to voicing anything unkind.”

Can life be so basic? So straightforward?

When we say Yes to divine Love (who for me is God) as the center of our lives, our thoughts, our goals, are we at the same time making a mental and spiritual commitment to say No to any unkind words?

I like the simplicity. It makes perfect sense. And I’m surprised to easily think of several people who are active in my life and are achieving this genuine, deep, and consistent kindness. What a privilege to know them. They don’t talk about it, they may not even think about it. They just live authentic generosity of spirit.

So I wonder, is this an attainable goal? Can I be deeply caring too? One has to come to terms with the fact that to become consistently and genuinely kind demands monitoring thought like never before.

Saying Yes, agreeing to love my fellow man, means saying No to rattling off at the mouth whatever pops into one’s head. It means rejecting the smart remark in favor of a gentle reply or perhaps even silence.

Yikes.

In fact monitoring thought means being selective about what one chooses to think, because our words are the outcome of our thoughts. I know it’s possible to choose which thoughts to companion with, that we can reject thoughts that make us uncomfortable, because I’ve been applying that principle with some modest progress.

I’m encouraged by something Eddy writes in her book, “Science and Health.” She says, “The devotion of thought to an honest achievement, makes the achievement possible.”

And, for heaven’s sake, Jesus' answer to Cain’s defensive question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” – is an unequivocal Yes, in the form of a strong offensive initiative to “Love one another.”

Apparently love is our debt to God, and love is how we pay it. Not the limited human affection that comes and goes, waxes hot and cold, can be possessive and jealous. But that broader love for mankind that is constant and unconditional. That’s the big stuff. The real stuff. That’s what lubricates relationships, shades them from the harsh glare of misunderstanding, guides them safely through the shallows of envy and criticism.

I may stumble and fall along the way, but so what? I’m going to start saying more Yes to loving my fellow man, and more No to voicing words unkind.

Tribute to a happy man

Dan with great granddaughter

My father-in-law passed peacefully away this morning. He’d lived a good and long life, survived two wonderful wives, is cherished by a third. He has three wonderful grown kids, grand-children and great grand-children. Dan was just going, as he phrased it a couple of days ago, “to walk into the next room.”

I’ve known Dan for forty years. He is one of the most consistently happy people I’ve ever met. The world doesn’t know what to do with happy people. It works hard to make them sad. He never took the bait. He kept his joy. Sometimes it took a bit of wrestling on his part to stay aligned with the good he believed was supreme in life, but he always rose to the occasion, and quickly.

He enjoyed a good joke. He was a careful and interesting story-teller. With a twinkle in his eye, he would relate an appropriate pun for the occasion, and chuckle at the groans from his audience. He loved people. He devoted the last 40 years to helping others find health, balance, stability, joy, peace – helping them feel the power of God’s love in their lives.

And, this is the big one – I never heard him say an unkind word about anyone. He lived Christ Jesus’ life message: to love one another.

He made the best of what life gave him, and he always felt life was giving him abundant good. He cherished family and friends alike.

With his perpetual joy, undaunted trust in the triumph of good, and genuine love for all God’s children, he set a great example of what it means to unconditionally love one’s fellow man.

He will definitely “Be in that number, when the saints go marching in”!

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If you would like to add a tribute to Dan, please do!

If this post has meant something to you, you might want to click on Comments below, and read those too.

Also see "Tribute" post in Kim's blog.

Bloom where you're planted!

What a great concept! This easy-to-digest advice assumes a purpose for each of us. Wherever we are, we have an opportunity to discover that purpose. I believe our universal purpose is pretty simple – to help others feel God’s love. That’s something we can do anywhere.

How do we make those around us more aware of God’s love? My friend, Suzy, taught me one answer through the simplicity of her humanity. One hot Boston afternoon, we stopped in a busy Starbuck’s. She greeted the clerk with a smile and a, “Hi, how’s it going?” The clerk, surprised, smiled back and said, “Today’s OK.” Simple, friendly, caring, unintrusive, Suzy’s kindness bloomed right where she was at that moment. She saw an opportunity to brighten someone’s day a bit, and she did it.

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“Love, redolent* with unselfishness,
bathes all in beauty and light.”
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Cheering those we meet just happens to make us feel good too. Amazing how that works. A flower picked is gone. But joy shared multiplies. We just feel better about ourselves and the world if we have made someone else a little happier.

What if we are feeling too sad to even think about cheering someone else? Here is another amazing fact. Sharing God’s joy begins lifting us out of the sadness. The reason is because the source of the joy isn’t in us, rather it’s outside of ourselves. As we let that source of universal love and caring flow through us to others, it does not leave us unchanged. We’re cheered as well.

Blooming where we are, sharing some comfort or joy right where we happen to be, satisfies our heart's yearning for purpose.

*Note: The word “redolent” means fragrant! So, here's a question: are we more fragrant when we’re being genuinely unselfish?