Kindness - Part II
In last week’s post I described several attributes of Kindness where generosity and gracious behavior can take place in the spur of the moment. An almost instinctual response for many people to help another without any desire for compensation or recognition, except perhaps a “thank you”.
This post describes a more broadly impactful form of Kindness, an aspect that has to do with a thought-out approach as to how best to make the world a better place. At times this type of giving is referred to as philanthropy, but I usually associate that word with large donations coming from a wealthy patron. In this case the action I’m describing comes from those who can only afford to give a limited amount of time, money, or their own expertise. But still, they do what they can to help others, either in their own communities or somewhere around the globe.
With that in mind I’m going to recount a story of an extraordinary experience I had about a year and a half ago when Rachel and I went to visit relatives in Kenya. It is a story that gave me an opportunity to encounter a wide variety of Kindnesses from a number of people, all dedicated to helping others.
Before heading to Nairobi, I asked a good friend about an organization where he has been a board member and long-time supporter. The non-profit group is called The Giving Exchange, founded by businessman Rod Mickels in 2013, its mission has been to “partner with under-resourced communities to implement self-sustaining projects for a lasting impact, particularly in the African nations of Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda.
I asked my friend Paul if he could set up a time during our stay in Nairobi for me to visit one or two of the dozens of ongoing projects supported in part by The Giving Exchange. After checking with several staff members, he sent me a note letting me know that I would be picked up by Margie Gakuo on a Thursday morning, then head off to see two of their extraordinary projects. I did not realize as I entered the car that morning, that my world view was about to be profoundly altered.
Before I go any further, I want to note that for years I had felt very strongly that helping in small ways was relatively fruitless. It seemed that unless we tackle the major problems such as climate change, the rapid rise of authoritarian regimes, and the existential issues created by our march towards the use of Artificial Intelligence, we would just be spinning our wheels with regard to the smaller, more humanitarian situations that sometimes feel overwhelming. I wondered why it makes sense to offer a helping hand to an individual who in a year or two may be starving because we have not mitigated the impact of fossil fuels on our swiftly warming planet.
So going on this adventure was more out of curiosity than any sense that I might gain insight into either the world or myself. That morning we drove well into the rural area around Nairobi, past thousands of small entrepreneurs attempting to eke out a living by hawking wares along the side of the road and into farming country. After about an hour of driving we made a turn onto a dirt road eventually coming to a few small buildings.
This was Njoo Dada. A safe house for young women who were either shunned by their families for becoming pregnant or were escaping bad relationships after having a child. Here they were also being taught the skills of sewing and embroidery so that they could make a living and support their child. Many of the older children were at school the day I arrived, so I met mothers and their infants along with a group of caretakers and instructors. What struck me most was the love and tenderness from the staff shown to these young women who had little or no future. The women who worked here were not going to become wealthy from this job. They were there because of the kindness and love in their hearts. It was clear that if they did not step up, these young women would be lost in the maze of a misogynistic culture
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The warmth of one caretaker in particular was almost overwhelming for me. She treated each child as if it were her own. It soon became clear that the children of the young women had found a safe and supportive environment that would allow them to become healthy adults.
Our next stop was the Divine Mercy Children’s Home, founded by an extraordinary woman named Sister Esther. The home was created as a sanctuary for abused, neglected, and orphaned children. What struck me most was that Divine Mercy was filled with children who had been left to fend for themselves yet had found a place where each one of them was embraced in a loving environment. For whatever reason, one small boy took to me almost instantly, hugging my leg and looking me in the eye. I could feel his unbounded warmth as followed me throughout the day.
The Divine Mercy Home supports itself by selling milk produced by the cows and goats housed on the property. The Giving Exchange has helped with purchasing more cows and providing a milking machine that allows for much greater productivity. Each child has a job, finding purpose and self-confidence in this amazing environment.
It was here, in the rural outskirts of Nairobi, that I realized we must do whatever we can to help those in need in whatever capacity we can. Yes, I still believe the existential issues we face are of the utmost importance, but in the meantime, lending a hand on a smaller scale is just as critical if our species is going to survive.
In the end, even though many of us have a charity that makes sense for us to personally support, I found that having the connection to who it is we are touching through that support is extraordinarily important. Until we can come face to face with the problems our fellow humans are struggling to overcome, we are only placating a sense of obligation by writing a check, not giving out of a sense of true connection.
As noted in last week’s post, a small kindness is holding the door open for another person. When we contribute by fully understanding who we are reaching, we are holding the door open for a potentially brighter future to an orphan or someone who is bereft of opportunity. As the old saying goes, this is not a “hand out” this is lending a hand. I can only imagine how much better off we would be if we took the time to reach out our hand and help those who will eventually be able to help both themselves and others along the way.
So as we near the end of this year, please consider giving a bit more to the charity of your choice (or right here to The Giving Exchange) and find out more about who it is you are helping. I guarantee it will change your life.
Oh, you are so right.
My church has a sister church in Bethlehem, Palestine, which my husband and I have visited. I taught photography for a couple of weeks at the school that the Bethlehem church has established. Person-to-person contact –being there, getting to know individuals, visiting in their homes, living in their circumstances (as much as an American can, who is able to fly out of those circumstances) — this builds a connection that remains. Contributions aren’t a duty now, but a bond of friendship. Now the task is to figure out ways to help others develop real connections to the people in Palestine.
Hi Verna,
That’s a great story and one that definitely adds to the main point I was attempting to make. The personal connection makes a huge difference.
Take care,
Tobin
Heartfelt thanks for writing this piece, Tobin, and highlighting The Giving Exchange. Even more, you’ve captured what it means to really embody kindness and the spirit of giving regardless of where you might stand on the wealth scale financially. What we really know is that wealth can’t always be measured by how much money one has. We don’t measure or value the wealth of kindness, empathy and love in the same way, sadly.
If we could all really find delight in giving kindness to strangers, in having empathy for those we don’t know or agree with and even love those that we might be tempted to hate the world would be a far better place.
I wish that your experience in Africa could be experienced by far more people and that your perspective on helping change things even in small ways were more prevalent.
Paul, thank you for your kind words and thoughts on this subject. I hope is that my posts might inspire others to see the world in a different light. I know that I am continually learning from the people I know and the words I read. What I know after almost a year of these weekly postings is that all any of us can do is to continue to try and make a difference. We may not know if we are even remotely successful, but it’s the effort that counts.
Tobin another collection of stories which serve as pointers to the direction which we must travel if we are to become more genuinely human, the one-of-a-kind selves that we in fact are. We can be present, lend a helping hand to each other in this journey of life. With others we are in an opportunity rich environment to practice kindness. Economic assets are one tool. Those who have the least often are rich in decency, in human kindness.
Keep writing.
Another personal anecdote to share. My late husband suffered a brain injury many years ago, leaving him a different person. Not bad, just behaviorally different. He would approach strangers and compliment them on something. He might comment on what they were wearing or, perhaps, tell parents how beautiful their baby was. It was generally well received, but there was one dicey instance where I had to intervene, and I wished he would stop doing it.
His sister became very ill, requiring surgery followed by a lengthy hospital stay, and we would visit almost every day. Across from the hospital was a small grill, one of those where you place your order at the counter and then wait to hear your name called. It was quite a laid-back little place. It even had a pinball machine, and it was a favorite spot of the hospital staff.
We had placed our order one day and were headed back to sit down when we passed a nurse. She was seated, also waiting for her order. Jack stopped and asked her if she worked at the hospital, and she answered, with some trepidation, that she did. He then told her that he appreciated what good care they were taking of his sister, and he wanted her to know that. She looked at him incredulously for a moment and then burst into tears.
She said it was the first kind thing anyone had said to her that day. She had had trouble with one of the patients, and her supervisor had severely criticized her in front of other staff. She said she hadn’t known if she could face going back to the hospital but now felt as though she could.
I never worried about what my husband said to anyone after that.
Marsha, Another wonderful analogy. Kindness is mostly presented in small doses, unconsciously. For me, this is what makes life tolerable. I’m offering a poem I wrote many years ago based on a story I was told that relates somewhat to your experience. Thanks again for your response.
Friends
Recently a man traveled a long distance
to say good-bye to a friend
he had known for many years.
When the man arrived, the hospital room
was quiet and clean and bright.
As the man moved towards the bed,
his friend opened his eyes and smiled.
He could no longer speak
but he could hear and nod
and his eyes still held the light.
His friend’s family was afraid.
They feared the pall of death
that lingered in the room and
of not knowing what to say.
They would peek in and whisper “hello”.
They would stand by the bed making small talk
and then they would make an excuse to leave.
But the man stayed with his friend.
He recounted the times they had together
and he laughed at the nonsense in their past.
He told him of the news of the world
and he talked to him like
they were just two friends in a room.
Mostly though, the man held his friend’s hand.
He felt the coolness of his friend’s fingers
as they closed around his own hand.
That told the man all he needed to know.
At last, the man let go of his friend’s hand.
He told him to rest and that he would not be far away.
Somewhere within him, his friend knew
that because of the man’s kindness and friendship
he could also, at last, let go.
So that night, when the room was
quiet and clean and dark
his friend’s heart beat one last time.