(Long Island, N.Y.) I’m not exactly sure how or when I first heard the term “random acts of kindness”. It was many years ago–long before the movie Pay It Forward and outward signs of sincerity towards strangers was considered chic. All I know is one day I was living my life with a sense of entitlement, feeling as if I’m on the cusps of greatness–and the world owed me something. Then next: I’m pulling up to a toll booth on the Garden State Parkway, craning my neck out of my car window about to do something way out of character.
“Hi. You’re going to think this is totally nuts, but I’d like to pay for the next ten cars behind me.”
“Excuse me?” asked the toll collector
“I had a horrible day,” I explained to the perplexed man. “So I’d like to pay for the next ten cars. $3.50, right?
“Um, right,” he said with a strange smile. “I must say, this is a first for me. Are you sure?”
“Yep, positive.” The poor guy looked delightfully confused and asked who he should say it’s from.
“Just say: Janene said to have a happy day.” I replied and handed him three crinkled dollars and two quarters.
As I pulled away, I felt an excitement I haven’t felt in years. Peeking into my rearview mirror, I imagined the reactions of the cars lined up behind me (probably annoyed I was taking so long at the booth). Driving alone in my car on one of the worst days of my life, my face was hurting from smiling.
Soon after my odd little toll gesture, a car catching up beside me started beeping and three passengers inside were waving. I guessed the toll-collector said: “Janene (the girl in the red mustang) said to have a happy day.” And I was right because the next ten minutes up the parkway, others cars caught up, beeping, waving, rolling down their windows and shouting thanks. (Okay, maybe I was driving a little slow to let them catch up.)
Now who would have guessed that three crumbled dollars could buy me out of depression. Did it really make a solemn day joyous? Yes, it did. That random act of kindness (which was not planned, the idea came to me when I was digging in my wallet for toll money) was by far the best money I’ve ever spent for a pick-me-up. I promised myself I’d make a habit out of RAK’s (random acts of kindness) and do them often.
But that didn’t really happen. I guess I forgot how good it felt. Life took over: marriage, kids– way too busy/frazzled/distracted to take the time to go out of my way.
Until recently.
I was waiting on a long line at the grocery store and annoyed at the slow cashier. The customers in front of me were huffing and puffing and shaking their heads. My daughter was getting antsy in the cart and wanted to escape and I thought: “Common, I have a million things to do today.”
Finally, when it was my turn, I noticed the cashier’s hands as he scanning my soup–were shaking. Without thinking, I gently place my hand over his for a second and when he looked up, I smiled. Our eyes locked for a moment and he smiled back.Then the strangest thing: the 40-something-year-old man began to cry.
“My damn hearing-aid isn’t working. I can’t hear right today and everyone is being so mean,” he said.
“Don’t worry what anyone thinks,” I said. ” Just be happy.”
I don’t think he heard me, nor do I think he was crying from all the mean people he checked out that day. I think he was crying— because I was kind. As I walked out of the grocery store I felt the same euphoria I did on the parkway years back.
So it got me thinking of all the times I was that snippy, mean customer. I’m not quite sure what made me snap out of my own frustration to reach out and touch a stranger–but I’m grateful I did because I was the one most touched. It’s amazing how a simple smile and a little patience brought a man to tears. He taught me a powerful lesson: There should be nothing random about kindness.
