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One Motion
Feb. 14th, 2005 02:52 pmThis weekend I was in Central Square with a friend, heading to a party. On the way we stopped into 7-11, along the long strip of Mass Ave. where homeless people congregate on the benches and under store awnings, anywhere that affords something approximating shelter. A man was seated against the cold wall beside the door with his change cup – a sight so familiar, so much a part of the store itself, that it would have seemed odd to see that patch of sidewalk unoccupied.
My friend bought mints and a candy bar. I don't remember if I bought anything; I was talking about some damn thing or another and wasn't in the moment as we left the store. He was so quick about it that I would have missed it entirely if I hadn't happened to glance over my shoulder, to see my friend leaning down and handing the candy bar and a dollar to the homeless man.
It was the simplest of kindnesses; unforced and free of all agenda or expectation. A human interaction of less than 5 seconds, nearly wordless, completed in one single indivisible motion. The homeless man probably hadn’t even had a chance to look up before my friend was off down the street, with me trotting along beside.
I've done this on occasion myself – any optimist would hope everyone has, or will – but for some reason it moved me more deeply than I let on, and I was grateful I'd been there at that moment. A reminder of how human love manifests itself in tiny wedges of life. Unprovoked goodness. This is a new friend who I don’t yet know well, definitely not well enough to say whether it was or wasn’t in character for him. I didn't want to say how it touched me because doing so would have spoiled it. So I just commented "That was really nice" and left it at that. But it imprinted on my mind and is something I won't forget witnessing.
We live in a culture where we don't know what to do with our kindness. It's there, but social boundaries inhibit us from it's free release. We give only within the velvet ropes of propriety, reserving it for sanctioned days – our Christmases and birthdays and Valentine's Days. Or our reach is shyly limited to those filling specified relational roles in our lives; the romantic interests, the relatives, those we trust with the nakedness of good will.
Or not. Sometimes somebody doesn't give a good goddamn about any of that, and just does something nice for someone.
It meant a lot to see it happen.
My friend bought mints and a candy bar. I don't remember if I bought anything; I was talking about some damn thing or another and wasn't in the moment as we left the store. He was so quick about it that I would have missed it entirely if I hadn't happened to glance over my shoulder, to see my friend leaning down and handing the candy bar and a dollar to the homeless man.
It was the simplest of kindnesses; unforced and free of all agenda or expectation. A human interaction of less than 5 seconds, nearly wordless, completed in one single indivisible motion. The homeless man probably hadn’t even had a chance to look up before my friend was off down the street, with me trotting along beside.
I've done this on occasion myself – any optimist would hope everyone has, or will – but for some reason it moved me more deeply than I let on, and I was grateful I'd been there at that moment. A reminder of how human love manifests itself in tiny wedges of life. Unprovoked goodness. This is a new friend who I don’t yet know well, definitely not well enough to say whether it was or wasn’t in character for him. I didn't want to say how it touched me because doing so would have spoiled it. So I just commented "That was really nice" and left it at that. But it imprinted on my mind and is something I won't forget witnessing.
We live in a culture where we don't know what to do with our kindness. It's there, but social boundaries inhibit us from it's free release. We give only within the velvet ropes of propriety, reserving it for sanctioned days – our Christmases and birthdays and Valentine's Days. Or our reach is shyly limited to those filling specified relational roles in our lives; the romantic interests, the relatives, those we trust with the nakedness of good will.
Or not. Sometimes somebody doesn't give a good goddamn about any of that, and just does something nice for someone.
It meant a lot to see it happen.