When I was a little girl I had always had a dream to become a nurse. However, when I got to about ten years-old I realised that I had a very big (but irrational) fear of needles, which made flu shots, childhood immunisations and blood tests impossible without a few punches, kicks and endless screaming. It was horrendous and often family members had to leave the area because my screams were so loud and painful to listen to.
Going back to my original statement of becoming a nurse… well, the little girl’s dream was quickly extinguished and I didn’t really have a Plan B to fall into. Thus, straight after school I didn’t head to uni and wasn’t too sure where my life was going to take me.
But only a few months after graduation I landed an admin job in a hospital and it was there I found my “place”. Although I wasn’t really making a dent in the medical and health sector I felt comfortable, secure and really at home.
So, the past decade I’ve dedicated my career in helping others. I’ve worked with the general public, I’ve worked with cancer patients and I’ve also worked with children; which were all very fulfilling jobs and enjoyed them immensely.
In those ten years I’ve also tried to help people when I’m not being paid for it.
While I was living in Melbourne I was sitting on a tram heading into work – tardy, I should add – when a guy dressed in a suit and tie sat across from me bawling his eyes out. In my mind I’m thinking he’s gotten laid off or just heard bad news from home. Who knew.
I watched him for a new moments, even reached out to him and asked, “Are you OK?” He brushed me off quietly and said, “Nothing” but just continued to sob. I didn’t find anything particularly cold or rude in his response; it was just the first answer he could tell a total stranger at his most vaunerable state.
In the last ten seconds of my tram ride, while it was just about to stop outside my work I went into my handbag, ripped off whatever corner of paper I could find (it just so happened to be the packet of gum) and scribbled my number down with my name.
As I stood up, I handed him the piece of paper and said, “If you want to talk…” and with that I hopped off the tram and heading into the office.
I remember feeling lighter and GOOD about what I had done. I mean, the guy could have just rubbished my gesture and thrown out my number. I didn’t have anything to lose with that. I felt good about myself.
Less than twelve hours later I receive a text message from a number I didn’t know. It was crying tram boy. He thanked me for being so kind, he also apologised if I thought he was being rude and also invited me out for a drink to say thank you.
I accepted and about a week later we caught up for beers along the Yarra River and talked about that day and why he was crying.
Although I never spoke to him or saw him after that night, I know that he was thankful and moved on to bigger and better things. I was glad that I was able to help him in a small way.
About three weeks ago it was raining in Sydney and I had been out in Kings Cross running a few errands before I headed into work to pull the evening shift. I was standing at the lights when I saw an elderly gentleman using his newspaper to shelter his head. It was then I noticed that he had hearing aids – ones that also clipped on the back of the skull and after working in the medical sector for such a long time you know that it’s not meant to get wet.
I stood next to him and told him I’d like to share my umbrella with him. He put his arms down and said how lovely I was and started to explain that he didn’t want to get his hearing aids wet and damaged. (Bless.)
I walked him right up to the main entrance of the hospital where he thanked me again and walked in.
Just recently I was shopping in Bondi Junction when I was heading to catch a cab and found a wallet on the ground. I picked it up, looked around and then went to look for an ID. The wallet contained a New York City driver’s licence, $20 and a blank swap card, along with miscellaneous members cards to clubs and bars in America. I didn’t know what to do with it or how I could get in touch with the owner.
I tried Facebook. Nothing. You’d think in this day and age you’d be able to find anyone on there.
Dead end.
I felt so intrusive as I picked apart his wallet looking something – anything – that could point me in the right direction.
I then found a VIP member’s card for one of the pubs in Bondi Junction. I Googled the pub and managed to get a hold of the office and spoke to someone about getting a hold of the owner of the wallet.
When I had called it was after 9:30PM, so the office was closed and the administration staff wasn’t available til the next morning. I decided I’d give them a call just before I went into work the next day.
The following day I called and managed to swap my details with staff so this guy could get a hold of me. Within the hour he had called me and we arranged for him to pick it up from work.
He was relieved and so thankful that I was kind enough and went through all the trouble to return it to him. He was amazed that everything in his wallet was still intact – including the $20 he had in there.
When I was sixteen my maths teacher said during class that the two things you need to remember as adult is to work hard and be kind. I will admit back then I didn’t really appreciate those words til I was actually in the big wide world. These are the two things I keep in the back of my head when I walk outside my front door and I implore everyone else do it also.
It doesn’t cost any money to be kind; a smile or a random act of kindness. It’s those little things that add up to the bigger picture and there is no doubt it’ll make you feel better within yourself.
Remember…