Why not be kind?
Recently, I watched as a man in his late 70’s to early 80’s, helped his wife out of her wheel chair and into his car. They were in front of the medical center where my Mother is currently rehabilitating, from three breaks in her right leg. The man seemed to be struggling, as he pulled his wife up and into his arms. I stood watching, wanting to approach and offer to help; but it also seemed like such an intimate moment that I kept my distance and simply asked if I could help? He smiled politely, and assured me that he was fine. Gingerly, he placed her in the car; and then proceeded to load her heavy and bulky wheel chair, into the trunk of his car.
The following day, as I rode the elevator, up to my Mother’s room, I once again found myself next this man, who was distinguished and well dressed. He was bringing his wife some clothes, and made a casual, half-comical comment about the personal items he was holding. A woman, I thought, would have brought the items in some sort of bag. He stepped back and let me exit the elevator first, and I reflected on what seemed like long lost chivalry and decency. The man smiled warmly, as he drew near to his waiting wife.
He was kind, I thought, as I walked to my Mother’s room. The stranger gave me hope, as I wondered how long he had been married and what had happened to his wife. Was this a man doing the honorable thing, tending to his wife out of a sense of duty; or was he still in love with her, and joyfully trying to meet her needs? Where had he taken her the day before? Had they gone to lunch or a doctor’s appointment? I wanted to know their story, but he was not looking to chat, he appeared only to want to be by her side. I did not intrude with my questions.
Spending hours surrounded by people in a medical facility gives one the unique opportunity to witness the best and worst that mankind has to offer. In the last couple of weeks, I have had a lot of time to observe the interaction between people, who are unaware that they are being watched. Said individuals are either busy doing their job, visiting a friend or relative, or unfortunately a patient at the facility.
It is easy to see the weight of the moment on their faces. The staff runs around answering the endless call lights, bringing trays of food, passing out medicines, and meeting those essential and challenging needs. Watching the nurses and aids, you can see the difference between those who tend gently and caringly, and those who make the patients feel awkward and uncomfortable, because they need to use a bed pan or have had some sort of accident.
There are family members who look pained to be sitting beside a loved one and others who walk into the room anxious to greet the person they have come to see. You can see the disregard, as some people barely engage the patient; while others will stroke the injured parties’ hair, hold their hand, and rearrange the bed so that it is just right.
The patients too show themselves in those moments of need or pain. There are those which are polite and engaging, which offer a smile and say please and thank you, while there are others who shout their demands and behave as if they were entitled to something which no one can provide.
It is impossible to ignore the impact of each of these groups’ attitudes on each other. A nice nurse makes everyone’s day more pleasant and easier; while a nurse having a bad day or choosing to be unkind can darken the mood on the entire floor. For the patient, stuck in a bed, an act of kindness can make the difference between a tolerable day of pain and discomfort or a day when they weigh the worth of life.
Sitting in my Mother’s room we met Adrianna, whose smile is infectious – clear and deliberate. Adrianna was offering us her friendship. Her English was minimal and my Mother and I were both quickly alerted to how bad our Italian was, as the majority of what she said went misunderstood. She is on the maintenance staff at the health care facility, I think I know that she is 70, and came from Italy, not that long ago. She worked hard and steady making sure everything was clean and tidy, and Adrianna went out of her way to introduce us to those on her team which spoke Spanish. Adrianna also offered us extra trash bags.
She was going to be off of work for a few days, and she wanted to make sure that my Mother would have enough of those little plastic trash bags which are taped to the rolling tables, in patient’s rooms. At first, as I reached out to receive the bags, I simply smiled, wondering why she was giving me the bags; but within a few moments I understood the gesture. What Adrianna had to give was trash bags; her token of friendship was a small stack of bags. I thanked her profusely, as I put the bags in Mother’s top drawer. The also nice Puerto Rican lady would come the next day, I was certain she would have given Mother new bags, but Adrianna wanted to be kind. She was giving what she had to give, would not life be so much better for us all if more of us acted like Adrianna?
Why not be kind? Is it not easier to be kind than mean or nasty? Does it not feel nicer to smile than frown? Why make hurtful statements when you could say something pleasant or nothing at all? I have been struggling with the notion of how we treat one another and why. I have never been found of bullies, I do not understand the gratification that they feel. Why not exercise the power we have, over others, for good instead of evil?
There is little worse in life than being dependent on others to meet your basic needs – from a hot cup of coffee to a warm shower. I truly pray never to find myself in such a state, but if I do, I hope there will be an Adrianna around to make sure that I have enough extra trash bags. That is all for now.
Adrianna also gave Mother this abandoned rose, the farmer’s daughter quickly began to bring the plant back to life.
This was very well said. In so saying, I would like to add one of my favorite scriptures.
Colossians 2
16Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. 17These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.
I personally do not like to use the cross as a symbol of my faith, as I feel it is a murder tool. It would be like hanging a guillotine around my neck, or putting one in my yard. Having said that…I have no objection to anyone else claiming it as a symbol of their own faith. What I take issue with, is others objecting to anyones symbol of faith. I have found that faith symbols are a comfort to people who use them. Would you take a childs blankie away from him because you found it offensive?
I enjoyed the article. I understood right away upon seeing the cross photograph that the writer was a Christian, and speaking from a Christian perspective. I also understood after reading the article, that it was an invitation to speak about faith. I then understood that if I were going to have a discussion with the writer her position would be from a Christian perspective. I am not sure how that makes the magazine Christian. I am also not sure how the statement “lets talk about it” excludes other ideas concerning faith.
Tolerance is a word that gets bounced around frequently in conversations, and yet…is shockingly lacking in said conversations.
I commented on that article right away as I felt that it had captured my ideas of faith, and relgion nearly to a “T”. It was very well written, and I felt comfortable in replying. I was hoping for a discussion because of the level of ease and comfort I felt from the writer. Like you COULD have the conversation, without the confrontational edge that always seem to present while discussing such a volitile subject.
Keep up the great work!
Dedra
Wow Dedra, what a fascinating perspective. I have never heard anyone make this argument about the cross; and I haver certainly never thought about the cross that way. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and observations. I feel like you have given me a lot to think about. CJM2
Using a religious symbol does connote a religious orientation, so I can understand the original objection.
Christ did not teach/preach tolerance.
Well, I just wanted to make an observation. Having a particular orientation is not wrong. I would argue that no one is objective, that is nearly impossible, one would have to be able to see all sides, and have no pref nor personal convictions. I hope that what can happen in conversations is that people can hear each other. I agree, with the comment that Jesus did not teach tolerance, at least not in the popular notion of the word. This is true. But, Jesus teaches sacrificial love for others, humility, and pref. of the needs of the other over our own…that can be harder than tolerance.
Seems a bit hypocritical to write this lengthy response and make a point about art and not being muted or offensive, but then take down the cross and replace it with a pornographic image. Or, were you being ironic?
Gosh, there must be something wrong with your Home page, sorry. The Faith section is still there, as is the cross. I do not know why you cannot see it, I will look into that. Perhpas you can tell, that as the new articles are posted, the order changes.
Ha! Glad my comment could inspire a commentary. I, of course, was referring to your identity within the limited context of Facebook.
On another note, it’s unfortunate the comments are not attached to the particular piece that inspired them. Looking at these comments above, I can see they were not about this editorial.
Also, I didn’t know how to comment. It’s too bad there isn’t a link at the end of an article.
Finally, it really is unfortunate that you can only make a correction here by deleting everything you wrote after the error. Yikes! Cannot highlight and copy and paste, either. Very frustrating for people like me. 🙂
Hahahahaha!!!! After posting that, about not being able to edit, I looked to the right here and saw G. Meir’s quote. Very funny!
Hi Caroline. The copy and paste is one small layer of defense in security.
I enjoyed the Kindness piece, Jill. Thanks.
Great Website and great content.
I hope to be that kind nurse. I enjoyed the article, I loved the picture that you painted of the old man and his wife so sweet. I sometimes see people like that and wonder their stories as well. Thanks!
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