Being Kind & Present Could Mean the World to a Stranger
“Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.” -1 Peter 3:8 NIV
It was May 14th, 2019, exactly one year after my dad passed away from Stage IV lung cancer.
With two little ones in tow, my husband and I decided to commemorate my dad by spending some quality time together as a family. The plan was to have a short hike and simple lunch together before tears or exhaustion set in with the afternoon nap.
As we set out on our morning hike, I remember the sun felt unusually hot for mid-May in Wisconsin. While wispy clouds stretched across the sky, none of them seemed to provide much shade. The blades of grass grazed our ankles and reached well up to the tops of my children’s legs. I remember thinking the path needed a good mowing. Instead of stretching our limits with the heat and our kids’ little legs, we walked under a mile before deciding to head over to Noodles and Company for an easy lunch.
On the drive, my husband and I recalled cherished memories of my dad. We laughed about the time he obliterated us in paddle ball at the local YMCA. We were freshly finished with our college swimming days, and he easily outmaneuvered the both of us on the court. I’m still shocked by it to this day.
We also recalled the fun we’d have on family board game nights. While my dad was competitive, he always had a way of making others laugh. Beyond his competitiveness, he easily made people he was with feel seen and appreciated. It was one common theme that came up during his memorial only a year before. Though three of us gave eulogies, we all highlighted how he was so good at being present and showing others, they were valued.
As our family reached Noodles and Company on that one-year death anniversary, we placed our order and organized our crew of four in a booth. With my daughter in a high chair at the end of the table and my son on the inside of the booth, I tried to keep them occupied until our food arrived.
It didn’t take long before my son drew interest with the man sitting in the booth next to us on the other side of the partition. He and his wife had just finished their meal, and they were still sitting and chatting with one another. My son’s chubby toddler legs stretched out on the booth seat as he peered over the partition in curiosity. As I was about to tell him to sit down so he didn’t disturb the couple, the older gentleman smiled and began playing peek-a-boo with my son. Clearly, he didn’t seem to mind this little boy poking his head over to their side.
With glee, my son squealed. He bent his knees to go up and down on the booth, playing along to his heart’s content. The gentleman made noises and teased my son like he was his own grandchild. Anyone looking at us would have assumed we knew the couple sitting in the other booth.
I don’t know how long the game and laughing lasted, but as our food arrived, the gentleman and his wife waved good-bye, and my son stretched out his chubby arm to wave back with a smile.
In that moment, suddenly my heart tightened. Tears began flowing down my cheeks. As my husband glanced over at me, he knew exactly why I was crying.
“That man was just like your dad. That’s exactly what your dad would have done if he was sitting next to us.”
I remember the tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and I could barely eat my food. It was a gentle tap from God acknowledging the pain I had gone through in the last year- the pain I still held in my body from my dad not being there. He would never be grandpa to my children the way I wanted him to be. We would only be able to share memories with our children, but they would never truly get to know him like we knew him.
As I processed all that had happened in that short amount of time, I realized this man’s kindness had meant more to me than he could have known. He had left before I could thank him or explain why his teasing and playing along with my son meant so much on the one-year anniversary of my dad’s passing. That gentleman was a glimpse of the man my dad was, and his kindness resonated with me on a day where I missed my dad’s presence and kindness.
Eight years later, I still miss my dad. When I think of my dad, I’m flooded with memories of how he showed up, how he spent time with me, and how he listened when I needed him. He didn’t take for granted spending time with his children or family. He embraced those opportunities. He was a man who understood the power of being present and kind, even to strangers.
We live in a fast-paced world where “being present” with others is often brushed aside for “getting things done”. I know I still struggle with this on occasion, but when I think of my dad and the man he was, I know he’d want me to slow down and spend quality time with my kids- to enjoy them.
Not only that, he’d want me to slow down and talk with the people around me- the grocery clerk, the person next to me getting ready at the gym, the mail carrier, the coffee barista, and so on. It’s not difficult to show people you care and appreciate them. It can be really simple. I love that my dad was a great example of this.
It’s been seven years since that man in the booth showed kindness to me and my family on the difficult one-year anniversary of my dad’s death. When I think back to that time, that man could have easily ignored my son, left with his wife and went on his way, but he didn’t. His kindness and presence made a world of a difference. You may never know the full extent your presence and kindness can have on someone.
Love others well. Be kind and be present. It could mean the world.
“Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” -Hebrews 13:2 NIV