Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Restored Faith in Humanity

Today I'm thankful for seventy degrees and sunshine, both of which showed up not a minute too soon. The daffodils which Rolf surprised me by planting the first year we lived in the house are inching upwards, bursting with blooms and new life. Every time I walk to and from my car, I think of that loving act, of planting my favorite flowers, which I enjoy for a few weeks each March. Doing is Rolf's act of kindness, of love. Cleaning the car, updating the weekly budget, cutting the grass...sometimes it gets us into trouble because our love languages aren't always expressed the same way. But planting those daffodil bulbs? An undoubted expression of love.

Last week was one which required flexibility and working together with one another. We came home from an Eisinger trip a day early to beat a storm so that Rolf could leave the following day. First flight was canceled, then another flight booked for later that day. Oh, canceled without notice? And a toddler with a stomach bug? And a mama who has emetophobia? Okay, March, let's play nice. But we survived.

Rolf finally made it to D.C. on Wednesday morning. He came back Thursday afternoon and I worked until late Thursday evening. We finally had the opportunity to catch up with one another and it was there that I learned a great lesson that has left me in thought since then.

When I inquired about what the best part of his trip was or what he was most excited to learn about, his reply was slightly uncharacteristic. He said that he'd actually learned more about life than about work or any cycling projects. This year he'd traveled with a community partner from Louisville, one whom he has considerable respect for. What he was able to observe about this guy even more than usual is his joy for life and desire to connect with people--even strangers--around him. Rolf found himself engaged in even more conversation with strangers than usual because of his friend's influence. He watched the man invite strangers to get-togethers, direct lost people towards their hotel entrances, and even brought a homeless gentleman a full meal after he'd asked for money on their way into a restaurant.
                                    
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Despite being an introvert myself, I am quite a social one. I often find myself connecting with strangers out in public, enjoying little moments with friendly faces and enjoying short connections. I had one of those moments at Chick-Fil-A in Indianapolis on the way home from Chicago. Vivi had been a trooper on the long travels and we agreed to stop so she could play in the indoor playground. Rolf took her in and I talked with two moms and their kids at the booth behind us. They were keeping close tabs on their children playing, talking to one another about how thankful they were that they each played with a girl who had Down's Syndrome and had just been rejected by another child.

At one point, the girl had taken a liking to Vivi's boots, which were sitting on the floor next to the bench. I waited to see what would happen, debating on what to do...I am still such a new mama on some levels, and I figured I'd let it play out for a minute. The younger of the two mamas went into the playground and gently asked the little girl (not her child) if she could give those to the mama. She cheerfully handed them to me with a smile, "I think these are your daughter's, aren't they?"


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Sometimes I (and apparently Rolf) need to be reminded that kind people are out there. We both talked about how those interactions with strangers, seemingly superficial, actually have a significant impact: they restore our faith in humanity.

It's easy to assume that the people next to us in the grocery store, sitting in the car next to us at the light, or the person checking us are indifferent or, worse, are intentionally unkind or selfish. But the more I interact with people on my own--saying hi to others out in public, asking non-creepy or non-invasive questions, or just great passersby with a "Good evening!" and a smile, I find a renewed confidence in humankind. Not just with strangers, but also with my friends. I'm thankful for those instances and for the opportunity Rolf and I had to share them with one another.

What restores your faith in humanity?

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