Well, that was nice...

At various points throughout the year, my Facebook feed fills with calls for "Random Acts of Kindness". It usually occurs after a tragedy - the death of a loved one, the horrible deaths of many loved ones. It's a way for us to feel proactive, to somehow feel like we're making something positive come from a dark place. I've noticed people want to help especially when we are feeling helpless and the way we choose to help most often is with money. We buy the people in line behind us coffee. We pay off a stranger's layaway. We pick up a dinner check for the couple across the restaurant. We use our pocketbooks and anonymity to produce something amazing - a smile, a laugh, a tidal wave of kindness.

Then, like a tidal wave, it washes away and we get on with daily life, forgetting the impact and the rush until the next call for a random act of kindness.

Sometimes, though, I wonder if perhaps we don't see the kindness shown to us by strangers every day because they may not be monetary, our primary cultural love language. These random acts are simple, second nature to the person enacting them. Perhaps because they are second nature, it somehow renders them invisible. Or maybe without the free coffee, we're blind.

It's so much easier to bitch and complain about the person who cut us off, the person who stole "our" parking spot, the person who snagged the last pumpkin scone. It's easier to be angry and see the negative. I was told as a waitress that if a customer had a positive dining experience, he or she might tell two friends. But if a customer had a negative experience, he or she would tell two dozen people. We are more likely to stop a stranger in the street and warn them against the bad customer service than we are to tell them to try it, they'll love it. Why is that? I'm sure there are studies. Still...

This week, maybe because I was tired or maybe because I was paying attention, I realized how often people perform random acts of kindness for me. When the kids and I were in Boston, unsure and lost, it was easy to see. Here, at home, in the spinning world of work and school, in familiar surroundings, I'm blind.

I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to the awesome people I encountered this week. They were total strangers who helped me out, made my life easier, and then went on their way without ever knowing my name.

Thank you to the tow truck driver who honked and motioned for me to back up. When I rolled down my window, he called out that I had been about to run off the curb at a very awkward gas station driveway.

Thank you to the lady who told me, "It looks like you're on your lunch break and need that Diet Coke. Here, you go first."

Thank you to the two men who let me make a left turn in front of them while waiting for the line of traffic to ease up.

Thank you to the older couple at the grocery store who insisted I go ahead of them - even though we had the same number of items.

Thank you to the woman who grabbed my shopping cart when it started to roll away while I was unloading groceries.

Thank you to the pharmacist who patiently listened to me as I cried that I'd only had two hours of sleep and I couldn't remember if this was the antibiotic Joseph was allergic to and then called the doctor's office to double check.

There are some kind people out there. We just need to see them.