By Tabitha Bozeman
The other day, I ran into Walmart on my way home. I only needed a couple of things, so I didn’t even grab a buggy. Instead, I power-walked to the back of the store, then swung around to the middle of the store. Chatting on the phone, and in a hurry to get home and make dinner.
I wove my way through other shoppers to the self-checkout line. I wrapped up my conversation and spotted an open register. I was locked in. Very satisfied with how quickly I’d completed my errand, I closed in on the line. Just as I was walking up, three shoppers with very full buggies beat me to the line.
I waited for a few minutes, but the entire self-checkout area was packed and at a standstill. A little frustrated, I decided to move over to a regular checkout line. In front of me was a mom, dad and son. I watched as the mother carefully helped her son navigate the line, speaking quietly and gently to him, keeping him busy while the father finished checking out. Both parents were patient and end-of-the-day tired. As they finished up, the cashier, an older man named Danny, started chatting with the boy, Dalontae, and tried to entertain him with a little dance to the music playing over the speakers. A smile lit up both their faces, and I smiled watching them. It was only a minute or two, but it was such a sweet interaction to witness, I was glad the self-checkouts had been full. I mentioned this to the cashier as I checked out next, and he told me all about dancing with a group of girls who had come through his line earlier that day, and how he always tries to get fussy babies to laugh at him as parents are checking out so they feel better. He said, “They smile, I smile, and it just makes the day better.” I smiled and told him it made my day better, too.
On the way home, I rolled the windows down and enjoyed the slightly cooler air and the cloudy sky and thought about why exactly it did make my day better. I decided it was more than the smiles and the entertainment. It was the unnecessariness of it. The cashier didn’t need to stop and connect with that boy. The parents didn’t need to pause and let them dance together. I didn’t need to say something about it afterward. But each of us did. And it was one of the best moments in my day.
I’ve written before about connection, social integration, community –how these are the things are the most impactful contributing factors to our longevity and life satisfaction. Moments like this remind me why we connect and why it is important.
Last week, someone else took the time to do something unnecessary that made my day. I was sitting in the Dollar General parking lot, while one of my girls ran in to grab something, and while her sisters and I waited in the car. I had a notification pop up on my phone from a former student. She was in the checkout line behind my daughter and saw her do something kind for another shopper. She didn’t have to, but she took the time to send me a message to let me know. I was proud of my daughter, but I was also really touched to have received the message. It was another kindness that could easily have been skipped over. Because it wasn’t, I was able to tell my daughter I was proud of her.
A couple of weeks ago, my son called to tell me that his drive thru order had been paid by the customer ahead of him in line. It was an unexpected kindness that made a big difference in how the rest of his day went.
It really is the little things that sometimes make the biggest difference. Bob Kerrey reminds us of this, saying “unexpected kindness is the most powerful, least costly and most underrated agent of human change”.
I hope each of you experience and engineer many unexpected moments of kindness this week.