“A simple act of kindness has the power to change a life”. (Author Unknown)
Lasting impressions or experiences in life have a way of remaining in one’s memories either to bring a smile or a pause of reflection. In today’s instance, it’s a smile underscored with gratitude for choosing kindness and patience.
I was in the middle of a very busy day filled with multiple reports, letters, memos, customer files to type. This was before the days of using a word processor to ease these tasks, everything was still being done on an electric typewriter. Factoring in taking phone calls or assisting an occasional walk in customer, this particular day was filled with many responsibilities that needed completion in a timely manner. Thus, interruptions were not my best friend. Looking back I can now see where a disruption to my work actually could be defined as divine appointments. Why? Because by taking a look at who’s involved, the reason for a brief meeting, and all the emotions that were produced, there was a lesson to be gained. So, even though I don’t remember the day of the week or the exact time when she came to our office, I can still see her face, her tears, fear and grief as I brought her to a place of privacy and quiet to answer her questions.
Sitting with me at a small table was a beautiful woman in her mid to late 40s. Her hair was styled very neatly. As I listened to her request for help, she began pulling bank statements along with her checkbook from her handbag. “Can you help me? I don’t know what to do…how to write a check….or what to do with these statements.”
I was caught off guard. I thought her visit to the bank was merely to reconcile a transaction or two that could be solved easily in a few minutes. Instead, I realized the problem was more complex. What I could do quickly and naturally was totally foreign to her. But why the tears?
As I sorted the statements, taking her checkbook in hand to open and lay aside, she explained as tears rolled down her brown cheeks that her husband had recently died unexpectedly. She was mourning. She was still in shock. And she was full of anxiety. Slowly she told me how it was he who had always paid the bills. He took care of all their finances. She wasn’t upset by being left out so to speak. She was describing how–in this sudden new place of being widowed–do I do this.
Over the course of what had to be an hour or so with her–all the while in the back of my mind–I’m thinking “I have SO much work to do….” I found myself feeling resentful, not towards her, but facing the time her needs were taking from me.
Like a teacher with a young student, I walked her through how to write a check in order to pay a bill, and how to enter it in the register of her checkbook. Because a couple of months had gone by since her husband’s death and her account hadn’t been reconciled to bank statements, I made the decision to start her balance with the amount “the bank” reflected on our system. With that number, I taught her how to add, subtract, and gave a brief lesson on how to “balance” her book balance with the bank’s when her monthly statement was received.
All seemed to go well as she listened and appeared to comprehend my instructions. Yet, I could tell she remained apprehensive. She even mentioned she may need more help and alluded that I could become the person she’d lean on. Although that was certainly feasible, it wasn’t an ideal solution. To ease her fears, I asked “Is there someone you trust to help you for a while? To sit down with you to help write checks and balance your account until you’re totally comfortable on your own?”
“I think so,” she said. “I can ask my pastor.”
Ah. I breathed a sigh of relief, for her and for me. “I’m so happy you have a pastor, someone you trust to help you.” Being able to affirm her choice and send her on her way was a win win for both of us. She could begin to move on in the complexity of embracing widowhood and I could selfishly return to my workload.
But, before she gathered her statements and checkbook to return them to her purse, she caught me off guard as she bowed her head, closed her eyes and quietly said “Jesus, thank you for giving me this woman to help me in my time of need … .Amen.” Those aren’t the exact words I am able to remember from over 40 years ago. My lapse in memory in that regard isn’t important. What’s at the forefront is a lesson in humility I learned that busy work day. God used a task oriented young woman and a grieving widow to break down what’s truly important, an experience directly pictured in Matthew’s gospel: “Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven.” (Matthew 10:32)
I was still quite new in my own faith journey as a Christian when I met this “customer”. She’d been living in a relationship with Him longer than I. That day I was consumed by worrying if I’d get my work finished for coworkers relying on me. She was focused on expressing humble gratitude to God for meeting a need that had previously filled her with anxiety. Her sweet humility and boldness for Christ far outweighed my selfishness or her fears.
An online quote I found says “A simple act of kindness has the power to change a life”
Over 40 years ago two simple acts actually changed two lives. As one grieving widow learned some basic skills, one slightly embarrassed young woman observed genuine faith and appreciation expressed in an unashamed prayer of thanksgiving.
I never saw her again. As time went on after our brief encounter I did think of her on occasion, hoping she was getting the help she needed. Thoughts of her soon faded, until today when memories of her came back as a reminder for me–hopefully for you, too,– that indeed, “simple acts of kindness DO change our lives”.
