A decade ago, in Singapore, I took a head-first tumble down a few flights of stairs, sustaining an awful injury. Before being given medical attention, I was made to sign all these waiver forms. While signing them, I remember being confused, thinking, “Why were waiver forms more important than a person?”
Later that evening, all bandaged up, my brother wheeled me into Ben & Jerry’s for ice cream. An elderly couple was ahead of us in the queue. The lady noticed me in the wheelchair and fairly yelled at her husband, “George, let the girl go forward and buy them an ice cream while you are at it!” My brother and I protested, but she insisted. And out, we came with our free ice creams. And I was confused by people’s behavior for the second time that day.
Narrating the ice cream incident, I asked my father, “Why would she do that? We are capable of purchasing $10 worth of ice cream. Was it pity?” All he replied was, “Maybe she was being kind.”
I was 21 years old when I learned the true meaning of kindness. A sheltered girl from an affluent family, I thought philanthropy was kindness.
This contrasting experience made me wonder - “How often have I stopped to be considerate when I did not perceive a glaring need? Am I a kind person?” It humbled me. And it propelled a change. I decided to go on a quest of kindness, from the servers in my favorite coffee shop to the people I met in my travels and everyone in between.
And I witnessed an astounding ripple effect. When you are kind, people are kind. It was that simple.
In Salisbury, two lovely ladies drove me around the English countryside and dropped me off at my location as my connecting train was canceled, all because I had helped one of them purchase a train ticket.
Two teenagers from my hotel in Brussels decided to take it upon themselves to protect me from a handsy drunk person at the bar, all because I helped them cook their dinner.
A lady in my dorm in Berlin stayed back to take care of me when I was sick just because I had spent time chatting with her in my broken Spanish as she didn’t speak English.
I can go on and on, but the point is that I never did any of these things expecting something in return. At times, I might have been infringing or overcorrecting, but my deliberate effort to be kind had turned into a subconscious action. I could feel the transformation.
Not only was I happy, and there was a genuine change in my outlook toward the world, but the world was also looking at me differently.
Maybe this was what the Buddha was trying to impart when he was asked by his disciples, “What is the meaning of kindness?” He said, “Ask the recipient, for only he will know the true meaning.”
As that recipient, I have learned that kindness has no boundaries. A random act of kindness is a powerful force that turns polite indifference into genuine interest, and passing acquaintances into cherished friends.
It has helped me look beyond geographical, cultural, and social appropriations. It has helped me hone my trust and belief in people. It has helped me stay optimistic. And I am richer for it. All because of one scoop of chocolate-chip ice cream.