It is National Kindness Day. One little act of kindness I managed today was to call someone’s attention to the fact that he had dropped his car keys and not noticed. I took some books to the charity shop. I was kindly looked after when I forgot to take my diary to a meeting – C sent her son as a runner for me and back he came with my diary in moments. Her daughter had been baking Hot Cross Buns and she gave us one each – delicious. Kindness makes the world go round. Here is a beautiful poem that I have shared before but you may not all have read it.
Kindness by Naomi Shibab Nye
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.
Coming home from town, down Lovers’ Lane I came across the first Bluebells.
I was on my own for lunch today and I treated myself to a small Cornish Pasty!
