In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Kindness of Strangers.”
I have found, more times than I can count, that strangers are unfailingly kind. When I was lost in Paris one night getting off the metro, the old woman who walked me to my hostel was kind. When I was on the phone with my insurance company and the Wee One was screaming in the background, the receptionist was so kind. When I drop things now and she’s in my arms, people are so helpful in retrieving my items and getting settled more securely.
This may not quite fit the spirit of the prompt, but the night the Wee One was born, my nurse was exceptionally kind. I realize it’s her job, but she went beyond the job description. I had just had my first baby and was scared and tired and felt gross and weak. She treated me with such patience that I wasn’t even showing myself. She helped me clean up, helped me control the pain of surgery, and generally reassured me that it was okay. She let me ask as many questions as I needed as many times as I needed.
She treated me with dignity on that most momentous of nights and she made such a difference in my recovery.
