The first night I met him was outside as he loaded his car with tools to drive the 400 kilometres home again, after a holiday week working on his daughter's apartment. I said 'hi' and we ended up chatting about life for 30 minutes. He seemed he needed the conversation.
The next time was a month later and again we chatted for a half hour or so. He told me of his daughter and her husband, how proud he is of her and how lonely he will be in a now empty house, as his wife passed a way a few years ago.
Tonight I came home from work and as I walked into the foyer, there he was again, packing the last of his things. He apologised that this would likely be the last time we will talk as the renovation is finished, but he was glad he ran into me as he had a gift. He asked for our apartment number and ran off to get it.
Two minutes later there is a knock at the door and he is holding a bottle of homemade Lingonberry juice. I asked him to come in but he was in a rush but he said he enjoyed the chats and wanted to give something in return for lending him an ear. A token gesture.
Little things matter.
We live in a world of grand schemes, big ideas, global initiatives, mega corporations and social media bragging yet, the things that matter the most are often the most overlooked, the easiest to miss, devalue due to their diminutive size and lack of investment required to perform.
Often these small acts go unnoticed by those that provide them but for those that receive them, it could make a big difference to their day, week, or entire life. We cannot know what space a small kindness will make available for someone trying to find their feet while struggling with feelings of loss, insecurity, loneliness.
A few minutes listening to someone speak, not to solve problems, not to give advice, just to listen without expectation about where the conversation should go. It is rare these days, we are too preoccupied.
We are worried about our image, our personal brand, we are rushing to the most important meetings, updating our social sites and worrying about all of the problems that threaten our way of life, that plague our existence.
We are forgetful.
We forget all of the times that someone has lent us an ear, those who have randomly smiled at the right time, complemented upon some triviality, given us something insignificant at the right time. We forget how at the times we have most needed, there have been a whole range of tiny acts that supported us and pushed us through to the next step until we are where we stand now.
It could be that where you stand is not ideal, that there is struggle, need, scarcity or even danger. It is these times that we are grateful for in the future, the times that teach us that things are not always comfortable but, there are always those who are willing to offer what little of themselves they can, to help another.
Life is short, time is the greatest gift one can give. And everybody has some to spare.
Taraz
[ a Steemit original ]