What we owe one another
Kindness, connection and love in action
“What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness. Those moments when another human being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded... sensibly. Reservedly. Mildly.”
- George Saunders
Her face brightened and she smiled. Her whole being lightened, as though she’d taken a deep, refreshing breath: “I made it,” she said softly as though not wanting to brag. This young woman, a stranger I encountered shopping for supplements at the co-op, whose dress—a simple design with muted floral pattern—I had just complimented. A brief but meaningful moment of connection, a breath of fresh air for us both, prompted by a handmade summer dress.
My friend Deloris, a fellow nonprofit fundraiser, defines philanthropy as love in action. So often—too often in my view—philanthropy describes only financial support: a donation, a gala, a grant. Philanthropy is, of course, each of those things. And, it is also compliments, smiles, and moments of attention we give one another.
I wonder how many times I have missed heart-warming, soul-nourishing opportunities for connection while rushing to find and grab what I need so that I can hurry on to the next thing. Efficiently oblivious to those around me or, worse, annoyed by them for slowing me down.
I have been thinking about our responsibility to one another. Not just friends and family, or even neighbors, but those we encounter who do not, and will not, play significant roles in our lives but are present with us right here, right now. What do we owe one another? How often have I rushed past someone who might have benefited from a compliment? Or a smile? How much better would I feel if I slowed down, noticed more, and committed to prioritizing love in action?
When I visited the memorial for Alex Pretti, the ICU nurse killed by ICE, back in February, among the flowers, photos, posters and those paying their respects was a visibly upset lumberjack-looking man in flannel jacket and Sorels. Pacing and grumbling expletives under his breath, he stayed close for only a few minutes before stepping away seemingly overwhelmed. I felt something similar. Minutes later, when he returned from his retreat, I acknowledged him and said, “You look like you could use a hug and I know I could…” Before my sentence was complete, he stepped toward me, arms extended. We embraced, and we cried. Two complete strangers brought together by tragedy, comforted by our shared grief.
On any given day, most of us come in contact with more strangers and acquaintances than loved ones. These oft-overlooked encounters can be powerful and demonstrate we are not alone in this world. When we slow down for them. Just as Prince sang, all of us are “gathered here today to get through this thing called life.”
Science has confirmed what religious leaders and philosophers have taught for thousands of years: generosity is a gift to both the recipient and the giver. The compliment shared at the co-op and the hug offered back in February were as self-serving as they were generous.
I don’t expect to see the woman with the pretty, handmade dress or the man who reminded me a bit of Paul Bunyan—the mythical giant whose footprints created Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes—again. These encounters will almost certainly fade from my memory. But they matter and, in those moments, they were as significant as any philanthropy I’ve facilitated.
P.S. I’d love to hear about your own experience of love in action or connecting with strangers. Hit reply or comment to share.