Practicing Kindness

 

Right Spirit

“There is a kindness that dwells deep down in things; it presides everywhere, often in the places we least expect. The world can be harsh and negative, but if we remain generous and patient, kindness inevitably reveals itself. Something deep in the human soul seems to depend on the presence of kindness; something instinctive in us expects it, and once we sense it, we are able to trust and open ourselves.”

John O’Donohue

          November is the month of Thanksgiving, so I’m hoping to feature some beautiful prayers and blessings to help us get in the mood. This is a story from my childhood that pertains:

 When I was in third grade at Normal Parks Elementary in Chattanooga, Mrs. Jones was my teacher. I was smitten with her in that way that only 8-year-old girls can be. She was beautiful, and kind to me and to everyone, and after Mrs. Westley, who paddled me and stuck me in the hallway with my nose to the wall, I needed that. I wanted to give Mrs. Jones a gift but had no money to buy one. Several doors up the street from our house there lived an old woman who kept a beautiful flower garden. What I remember about her is that she lived alone in the basement apartment of someone else’s house. She wore her hair in a little gray bun on the back of her head, and quietly tended her flowers in black lace-up shoes and a gingham print dress. To be honest, I was a little bit afraid of her. But her garden was beautiful, and especially one feathery red flower that grew on a straight stalk and was the color of a ripe tomato. I wanted to pick that flower so bad I could taste it.

          So, early one morning, before the old woman was up, I headed out to school (we always walked to school in those days). Instead of going left, I turned right and sneaked along the sidewalk to the old woman’s garden. Quietly, quietly, I eased into her yard and snapped off the red feathery flower, wrapped it in my sweater and took it to Mrs. Jones. She was sweet and appreciative as usual and asked me if my mother had grown the flower. Now, I may be a thief, but I’m not a good liar. I turned as red as the flower, and she immediately knew something nefarious had happened. Long story short, it got back to my mother that I had stollen a flower from the old woman’s garden and she marched me up the street to apologize. Instead of being mad at me, the old woman took me in, and we cut a whole bouquet of flowers—some for Mrs. Jones, and some for Mother, too. In the process, she taught me a lesson about kindness, honesty, and generosity that I remember almost 70 years later.

          The world would be a much better place if we were all as kind as that old woman. I fall short much of the time. But wouldn’t it be great if we took the whole month of November to practice kindness? Not just kindness to the people we love, but to all the little snitches and witches out there who steal our flowers. Then, by Thanksgiving, we’ll be in the right spirit to celebrate.

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane