This blog is about kindness, a quality of human beings for which I am very grateful. It is, in fact a complicated affair. At one extreme kindness might only involve helping a complete stranger and leaving without saying a word. More commonly, however, it is part of an ‘exchange’ where, for instance, a gift or help is given and the recipient accepts it with pleasure and gratitude. 

In such exchanges, while I very much enjoy being the giver, I am not often at ease as the recipient. Indeed, while there are exceptions, I will sometimes open the gift quickly, examine the contents only cursorily, make few comments and then offer only the most perfunctory gratitude. In all this, receiving in itself is no fun!

I believe that I learned to be a ‘cold’ recipient from my often ungracious, even hurtful, mother. If she did not like what she was given, she was quite capable of asking for the receipt so that she could exchange the gift for something more to her liking. For a young boy who had saved up his pocket money to buy her present with care, her manner of receiving was crushing.

By good fortune, my response to two recent acts of kindness has reminded me how much, as a ‘poor’ recipient, I have missed over the years.

The first episode occurred a few weeks ago as I hurried to catch a train. For years my knees have been troublesome and although now I am usually pain-free, if I go up or downstairs too quickly they could hurt, so on stairs I still walk with care. 

It was a drizzly afternoon and when, from the street-level gantry I saw my train drawing into the station, I ‘rushed’ down the stairs as fast as I dared. The train stopped, the doors opened, and despite my hurrying, just as I got close enough to step aboard, the doors closed leaving me shut out on the platform. There was nothing to do but prepare myself for a long stand in the rain until the next train arrived. 

Then, with no announcement and as if by magic, the doors that had just closed slowly reopened and I jumped in and sat down and off we went. It was a dream-like moment with no obvious explanation.

When we the reached the terminal – which happened to be my station – I walked along the platform and coming towards me was a man carrying a driver’s regulation back pack. I asked him if by chance it was he who had driven my train to which he replied “Yes”. “In that case” I said “Were you the person who magically opened the door for me?”. “Yes, I was the very magician”. With the warmest of smiles he said how, on a monitor in his cab he had seen me standing forlorn on the platform and decided to help. 

I thanked him, wanted to give him a hug, but instead simply walked home whistling to myself, even dancing a few steps to my tune. That afternoon my happiness was invasive and for hours it dominated all other thoughts and feelings.

The second episode occurred some days later when I sought help to replace a broken security device in the frame of a window installed 15 years ago. The central component had sheered off making locking impossible and leaving us open to burglary. After a depressing afternoon getting nowhere when I asked for help at a local ironmonger, a locksmith and a painters and decorators, in desperation I tried one last approach and phoned the company whose name was on the key of the original device.

I explained what I needed to the woman who introduced answered herself as Sue. She listened attentively, told me that they stocked over 3000 specialist window-frame items so it might take time and then asked several questions. I made mistakes, explained that I was at my wits end and in response she made allowances as she painstakingly continued her line of enquiry. Then, all of a sudden she found the replacement, took my address and said it would soon arrive by post at our house. In three days the package was delivered with the security device, a new key and a tiny packet of jelly babies (see illustration). When I rang to thank her she told me that the sweets were to cheer me up.

As with the train driver the week before, the pleasure I got from discovering the replacement and then from Sue’s kindness lasted days. 

Being able to receive kindness so fully, albeit where the kindness was relatively trivial, has been an experience I have missed for years. Let’s hope that always thanking and enjoying are now a part of me for ever.

For helping me write this blog I would like to thank Sue, James, John, Marco, Sarah, Rohan and Vivien.

The illustration is a photo of a replacement security device for the sash window plus its key – with the manufacturer’s name just visible – together with Sue’s gift of a packet of jelly babies. In the background is a leaflet with instructions.