Common kindnesses, uncommon lives

Note: This essay was first published on The Daily BS on Feb. 22, 2025.

“A kindness that seems common to you may be wholly uncommon to the one who receives it.” – America’s small, caffeinated mom

In our bustling household, preparations were underway. For an entire weekend, the HIC (Heckler in Chief) was heading to a camp in the North for a spiritual retreat. His youth group and hundreds of others from different churches were gathering for a time of renewal and instruction in the faith.

“Want me to make some cookies for you to take along?” I queried the resident teenager.

Blue eyes peered at me. “Can I have them all?” Clever negotiator that he is, he always started the bidding high. But Mother, having years of experience with his three older siblings, knew how to deal with him.

“I’ll give you two, one for each hand. Make ‘em last, buddy.” He slouched off, looking for something to chew as he gathered his things.

It was days after his return that I received a message. Another parent wanted me to know that my senior had made a big impact on her sixth-grade boy at the retreat.

I had heard it before. Out of the blue, a peer would suddenly confide in him. At church, at cross-country practice, at bonfires with buddies, another struggling teen would pour out his heart into a pair of listening ears. It seemed to be a pattern, and now I was hearing it again.

I went to him. “What did you do?” I asked. “Whatever it was, it meant something to him.”

He was surprised. “I don’t know. Nothing much, really.”

Nothing much, indeed. Nothing more than being who and what he was–a young man of kindness, compassion, and respect. A person of integrity who made others feel safe in his presence. A soul who lived his life with confidence and boldness, never hiding who or what he was. By his very being, he invited others to simply be, too; to be who and what they were, knowing they were received and embraced without judgment. It was a rare and precious gift he carried, and those around him felt it.

It was his character, I knew, manifesting itself in common kindnesses of which he was happily unaware. Put simply, his do-ing sprang from his be-ing, and in merely living his life, he influenced other people.

Mark Twain said, “Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” He was right. It’s a language that calls to every soul, regardless of color or creed. Everyone knows it when they “hear” it, but not everyone knows how to “speak” it.

An elderly woman I once knew used to say, “It doesn’t cost anything to be kind, but it can cost a lot if you’re not.” This piece of wisdom had been given to her by her mother, and she repeated it often to us. Her entire life was proof that the law of kindness was firmly rooted in her heart. Clearly, her acts of goodness were born from who and what she was. Again, her do-ing sprang from her be-ing, and so an entire community was blessed by this faithful woman’s love.

“One who knows how to show and to accept kindness will be a friend better than any possession.” In this quote from Sophocles lies another key. It is one thing to show kindness to another. It is quite another to accept it, for it is a humbling thing to be the one in need of help.

When I was suddenly placed on months of bedrest for a high-risk pregnancy, my obstetrician gave me advice that I never forgot. “Allow others,” he said, “to receive a blessing by helping you.” It pierced me to the core, for I would far rather have remained independent, caring for my home and family myself. For a season, though, I was wholly dependent on others, and it humbled me.

If accepting help is hard, it may be a sign that something within us needs to shift. Being humbled is not the same thing as being humiliated. One builds up, one tears down, and it’s important to know the difference. When pride gets in the way and we refuse to accept kindness and help, it will interfere with our relationships. There is something lovely that takes place in the dance of giving and receiving that cannot be replicated otherwise. It’s the left foot and the right, working together, that comprise the beautiful waltz.

When kindness is who we are, woven in silvered strands throughout our DNA, it cannot help but be seen. For such souls, acts of kindness are common, and so they live uncommon lives. Their influence cannot be measured.

Let us tend well to our inner condition so that the graces of kindness, both giving and receiving, shall be our happy lot. In this way, we, too, will live uncommon lives, lives whose influence cannot be measured.

Join James Golden and the small, caffeinated American mom every week on a station or podcast platform near you. Bring a mug and listen in.