Small Acts of Kindness
As a Native New Yorker, I’ve always known the importance of being kind to strangers and new-comers to the City, especially when they are obviously lost, stressed or confused. And I believe it should be second nature to do so. Moving to a new place is really hard when you don’t have a community or sense of place. And I’ve appreciated the signs outside Gray’s Papaya on 72nd and Broadway that say (right next to one of the most harried and stressful subway stations) “Yes! We are Kind New Yorkers!!”
So, I’ve always made it my practice when someone new, like my now friend Kela, makes the brave big move.
And maybe at this point my face appears to say “Yes, ask me directions”, because even when I’m in a completely foreign country and city, someone will invariably stop me on the street and ask me for help, even if I have no idea what they’re saying. If all I can do is smile and attempt to explain I’m a foreigner too, I do.
Being kind, especially when it’s not convenient, is something that this recent move to a new country in the midst of Covid has driven home to me in spades.
The last couple of weeks have seen about 3 sets of basic bedroom and dining furniture go astray due to Amazon warehouse miscommunication and shipping supplies drying up at random moments. And before you groan and say AMAZON! Please understand that when I was here in Bermuda last winter and spring, I spent months picking out and pre-ordering furniture that was designed, built and sold by Bermudians. Only to return and find that after all those months of planning, no container ships had been able to deliver any lumber, furniture or lighting supplies to the island… just as they haven’t to all those car manufacturers waiting for smart chips. So, I’ve been at a bit of a loss, sitting on my floor on my little Moroccan carpet at my makeshift coffee table with my pillow-husband backed up against a wall trying to function as best as I can. Add to that the unpleasant discovery of a $588 phone bill for my 2 weeks here, which I’m still trying to sort, as well as my broker listing my place without actually getting my sign-off on the photography or plan… and I start to feel a little desperate. Where do I turn for help? Where do I get furniture? How do I sort out my phone bill when AT&T charges international fees for every moment I pick up the phone?
That’s when the cheerful, KIND, always-eager-to-help faces of all the locals (and other expats) kick in. Phil and Raphie drive me all over the island looking for furniture supplies, Patrick comes after dinner to re-engineer my wifi network and phone access, Taylor steps in to manage AT&T from New York, and my new Serbian neighbor, Milos, down at The Wharf Restaurant says, “No problem! I’ll give you my furniture! I’m sorry the cushions and everything aren’t new!!”(as pictured).
And the weight of the world just disappears…
I know in this world we tend to admire BIG, HEROIC ACTS, but to me it’s these little acts of kindness that make the real world of difference.
So, this week, I’d encourage you to take a moment when something or someone needs the tiniest bit of help and kindness and Choose Kindness.
Holly Lynch is a 20+ year communications veteran and life-long social impact advocate and strategist who has helped individuals, educational leaders, and companies tackle the toughest challenges in their worlds.
Having survived countless life setbacks and two rounds with terminal cancer, while seeing the country-wide collapse of the systems and safety nets for the most vulnerable in and outside our communities, she is now shifting her life and career trajectories to focus on coaching those facing down fundamental shifts and transitions as they try to navigate and rebuild their lives, institutions and businesses during these unprecedented times.