Why is kindness often perceived as a weakness, a question that comes up time and time again. There seems to be a threat attached to it, like some kind of lethal weapon making its opponents twitch with decided discomfort.
I like to give, having it instilled in me as a little girl. Not by my parents mind you, who were anything but generous, but a grandfather who was.
He taught me life was about sharing, helping, giving what you have. And if there’s no money in your pocket, quite often a kind word will do.
Kindness is also the finest fixer for what ails you, service taking you right out of yourself plucked from your troubles, plugging, what writer Anne Lamott calls, those Swiss Cheesey holes.
Receiving is in the giving, as St. Francis said, knowing first hand, it’s true.
When someone called me the sweet little deaf girl on the 5th floor who needs to be liked, it didn’t make me cry as much as feel sorry the sincerest of actions could be interpreted this way.
Sad really. I give with no expectations, no looking back, leaving no bill beneath the door.
My choice? Now when I see this person who’s elderly and feeble, do I pass her by with my back up like a pissed off cat? Or do I still say good morning, how are you today…is there anything that you need?
I’ll admit, since her outburst, take pause…
but, it’s only for an instant.
SB
As a kid in school and as a grownup in offices, I often found myself befriending the people others didn’t like rather than the cliques and leaders of the packs. I used to think it was because they rejected me, but now i think that in a way I rejected them. It was the underdog in need of kindness that appealed to me.
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I totally get that. No one likes this woman because she’s so cranky. She reminds me of my Italian grandmother. My heart, that little dickens, opens at the drop of a hat. I yam what I yam Gail…:)we are who we are!
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Ouch. Perhaps she never learned to be a gracious receiver. Sometimes older folks lose their filters. They think that age and experience means you don’t have to be kind. It always goes back to “if you can’t say something nice….well, you know.”
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First off, I’m not deaf thank God. People use that word so casually it’s like a stabbing to hear it. I never quite know how to respond to as you say, the random ungracious remark. She’s old. She’s also not used to someone like me who cares how she’s doing. Must be like culture shock.
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Call her old. That should set her off! 🙂
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Yeah, that would send me to the roof.
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Me too! I had a thought. Since she thought you were deaf maybe she didn’t expect you to hear it.
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She knows I’m not deaf. It’s just her name for me. I’ll tell you, though for the grace of God go I should be engraved on her walker.
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Up until a year after we had four children my Pookie and I bought and delivered Christmas gifts and meals for up to 20 elderly shut-ins and adopted a small family. One of my sister-in-laws by marriage told me that we were just Yuppie do-gooders! The woman wasn’t happy at family gatherings until she hurt half the guests feelings or made someone cry. Susannah, I think you must have met one of her relatives.
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That made me laugh. Those who don’t give, loathe ones who do. I’ve learned this the hard way. Yet, becoming like them is not the answer, now is it, dear Skinny? We must press on, we Yuppie-do-gooders. I actually like that name, it’s so Connecticut…:)
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I was really tempted to have a T-shirt made up that said Yuppie-do-gooder. That phrase still gets repeated by Pookie and me, now and then.
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Well if you do, make one for me…:)
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Some folk are difficult. Of course, we don’t know what they’ve been through, but it is not unreasonable to expect better than that. Maybe it just takes time to build trust?
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I don’t know. When I was very young and hated myself, I would hate you too if you were kind. It’s a self-worth issue in my humble opinion Mick.
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Interesting. I hadn’t considered that angle.
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I remember a guy, for my birthday, I was fooling around with in my hound dog days giving me a Tiffany pen. I was furious at him and never saw him again. Takes one to know one. Only took 30 years to learn how to be gracious and worthy of another’s thoughtfulness.
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I sometimes feel (not always though) that certain people (but not all) people, see kindness to be a sign of weakness because they associate it with meek minded individuals. I grant you, I base this perception on personal bias, but anyone trying to help another person is often viewed by bullies, neanderthals, and macho type individuals as something that would be beneath them. However, I’d remind these people to look back on the actions of someone like Mother Teresa, and maybe—and maybe is the right word here—they’d reverse their opinion.
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Beautifully penned. You’re such a fine writer Paul. I treat others the way I wish to be treated. I know what it’s like to be abused or ignored for sport. I really go out of my way to notice people even when they’re doing well. If that makes me weak, so be it, but I then might ask you, to step outside…:)
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LOL. I can see it now… “Lets get ready to rumble!” Thanks Susannah for the kind words about my writing, I needed to hear that. Been slacking off of late due to the holidays. :O)
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Well suit up pal, the holidaze is over…:)
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Well almost. Our family and their kids still have nearly another week off—they have to work today and tomorrow—and then they’re coming up to play in the snow. Also our youngest daughter is coming home from New York on Sunday night for a couple of weeks—give or take a flight or two to Atlanta, Washington D.C., and Los Angeles on business—but otherwise she’ll be home for a few days anyway. Nuts huh? 😀
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No, it’s sounds like a Norman Rockwell painting that descended off the wall. Despite being the don of the family, you can still write. You can!!!
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Careful now, you’ll wind up feeding my desire to someday be seen as a good writer. Then I’ll badger some poor agent into looking at one of my—as of yet to be written—manuscripts. Which will lead to my having to desperately learn how to rewrite and edit the poorly written piece. Followed by a publisher trying to talk an agent out of appeasing me with some sort of an advance to finish the thing before I spend the whole advance. Leading to a book tour where I’ll be afraid to shake hands with the poor folks who buy my book because they might drown from my sweaty palms. Resulting in a major movie studio making an offer to turn it into a film franchise, whereby I have to write a sequel on a deadline ‘causing me to take up smoking and drink—well drink anyway—thus requiring me to contact the law firm of Claw, Scratch, and Chisel so that they can cut into my profit margin, forcing me to find some kind of tax shelter overseas to protect my ill-gotten gains. Consequently, I’ll have to retire to the south of France and live out my days on the French Riviera, writing the great American novel—which as everyone knows is only a fallacy. Well, maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. Thanks Susannah! 😀
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See, you had time to write even if it was just to me. Writers write even when days change…:)
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I did it! Of course, I needed a ghost writer. :O)
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Lol
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