The kindness of men

the-kindness-of-men-strip1

The kindness of men

The kids were climbing all over the rocks. Big rocks. Little kids.
I saw the potential for disaster, heard the sound of falling, the crying over skinned knees, or worse. Watching from the sidelines, it looked like Grandma, nicely dressed with a pleasant face, was oblivious to the danger. It wasn’t enough that there was a prominent sign asking them to please not climb on the rocks. She had her hands full just keeping all four children in her peripheral vision.
The children looked between five and ten years old and had energy to spare. It was a lovely summer day. The sun was not too hot and cast a glorious brightness on everything it touched. Still, the climbing children were starting to irritate me. Someone was going to be hurt and, as a senior member of the staff, it would be my problem. Running out of patience and after taking all I could, I started towards Grandma to ask her to please ask the children to come down to the safety of level ground.

When over my shoulder I heard his voice. “Say”, he said. Would like me to take a picture of you with your grandchildren on the rocks?” “Oh,” Grandma replied, “that would be so nice.”

As I watched, the children gathered effortlessly on the rocks with Grandma in the middle and John, a corporate vice-president and leader on our Board of Directors, took their picture. Smiling, in the sun, on the rocks. What is surely today a treasured family photo of a really nice summer day spent with Grandma.
It had never occurred to me to do what he had done. He had seen exactly what I had seen, but I had missed the opportunity to view it with kindness. A kindness that was innate in him, a point of view that he brought with him everywhere he went.
He taught me a lot about kindness. And in just this way. By watching what he did and how he did it. He never left a room or a situation without it being better for him having been there. For early morning meetings he brought doughnut holes. At Christmas he baked his special Norwegian bread. For his friends. More than a hundred loaves. He was never absent and always interested. He remembered names. Right up until the end. Diabetes. I guess there was one person he forgot to watch out for.
I feel the world’s loss of a good man. Constant reminders of knowing the earth is without him and his contagious enthusiasm. I see his laughing face and eternally optimistic smile. I learned and now I know. When it comes to each other, kindness is always an option.
When we look for it.