A Random Act of Kindness Revisited

 

by Pa Rock

Today would have been my mother's 103rd birthday.  I try to always remember my parents' special days and use those times to reflect on their lives.  Sometimes I even commit a few memories of them to this blog, something for posterity.  But not today.  Today I want to remember a lady whom I just met once and spoke to only briefly nearly a dozen years ago.

Today is also Bastille Day, or the French "Independence" Day, a day that resonates with me because it falls on my mother's birthday - or, more correctly, her birthday fell on Bastille Day.  And with that nugget of knowledge, my train of thought has left the station and is meandering out across the Sonoran Desert toward the urban sprawl of Phoenix.   It will stop in the city of Goodyear on the western edge of Phoenix, and I will be disembarking into a parking lot that is adjacent to several shops and the only movie theatre complex in Goodyear.  

The day is Tuesday, January 1, 2013, and I am beginning the New Year alone, taking in a movie.  I got to town late and am now standing in a rather long line that extends out into the parking lot - but I am in no hurry.  As I am standing there, probably sifting through emails on my cell phone, a lady who is visiting with someone else walks over and inadvertently gets in line in front of me.  January is one of the very few months of the year when the weather is decent in the Phoenix area, so I am enjoying the sunshine and am not bothered that the line in front of me just got a little longer.

But then the lady's husband steps up, and he is bothered.  He berates his wife in my presence pointing out that she had just crashed the line in front of "this guy."  I assure them both that I am in no rush and everything is fine, but the guy is still somewhat pissed - at her - and walks off.  As the line moves ever so slowly forward the lady and I exchange a few comments and strike up a passing friendship.  One of the things we talk about is movies, and she asks me what I am there to see.  "Les Miserables," I say, pointing to a poster of the newly released film of Victor Hugo's book about the French Revolution.  She tells me that would have been her choice, too, but that her husband wants to see something else.  

My new friend is at the window now getting her tickets, and I am pulling my wallet out getting ready to make my own purchase.  But before I have the opportunity to buy my ticket, she turns around and hands me one.  "Here," she said.  "This is my random act of kindness for the day."    Later, in the lobby, I had in mind to buy her a random bag of popcorn, but as I got to the counter of the concession stand I found myself behind her husband who was already buying two.

When I think about my mother's birthday, my thoughts sometimes drift on to Bastille Day,  and  "Les Miserables," and the very sweet lady who bought my ticket to the show.  My mother would have liked her!

There are a lot of good people in this world.

Happy birthday, Mom!