A Moment of Kindness

“Cupcake? They’re vegan and gluten free, but still delicious!”

I was standing in line at one of my favourite stores. It was their yearly anniversary sale, and since they’re a beloved local shop with a long history in Winnipeg, the place was packed.

“Thank you!”, I replied as I unwrapped my treat, taking care not to get any of the blue frosting on my fingers. I juggled my soon-to-be purchased items in my other hand and took a moment to take in my surroundings. I have a terrible habit of going through my day with tunnel vision and have been trying to notice things more, whether it’s people, sounds, or even the colour of the walls. This space, with all their eclectic offerings, offered much to be observed. 

The line moved slowly, but I didn’t mind. Since they’re a small shop, there’s only one till, and I appreciated that they didn’t cause any of the customers to feel rushed as they paid for their items. Seasonal Halloween music played over the speakers, and I found myself tapping my foot to an enthusiastic version of Monster Mash. In line behind me, some people stared into their phones. I, of course, have elected to devoid myself of that option, so I continued to take in the sights and sounds. 

Books lined the shelves in front of me. An aisle over, amusing mugs, candles, and trinkets were placed with care, sparking laughter when someone laid their eyes on a colour changing Bob Ross mug. The line inched forward, and I soon found myself standing in front of the candle section. I picked up a jar with “Samhain” labelled on it, gave it a sniff, and tucked it into the crook of my arm with the two Norse God statues I had selected. 

With only a couple of people ahead of me, I glanced around the shop. Without the distraction of my phone, my thoughts started to swirl about the list of chores I needed to accomplish this weekend and things I had to accomplish at work next week. I’m still getting used to working through stress without a handy distraction at my fingertips, and I could feel my brow begin to furrow. 

Deep in thought, the people around me started to fade, as though they were background characters in a movie. The music continued to fill the room, but I was so concentrated on my to-do list that I couldn’t place which song was playing. I started to feel warm and wondered why I had chosen such a thick sweater from my closet that morning.

As I stood there removed from the world around me, a shop worker, one who I had spoken to a couple times before, reached her arm towards me as she walked by. Her hand made contact with my elbow, giving it a squeeze, and she smiled at me as she continued on.

I was in such a different world that it took a moment for my mind to travel back. I had felt her hand on my skin and saw her warm expression, and as she walked away, I instinctively let out a chuckle. The interaction had lasted maybe two seconds, but it was enough to pull me squarely back to reality.

A brief instance of human contact just reminded me that I was, in fact, in public and surrounded by people.

The truth is, I’ve been a bit overwhelmed lately. Maybe it’s everything that’s happening in the world, but more often than not I’ve found myself feeling an unfamiliar pressure. On weekends, the sacred two days a week where I can do as I please, I still felt that pressure, even as I stood in line in one of my favourite shops on a gorgeous fall day.

That is, until the single moment of human warmth occurred. It was such a small act, something that was probably inconsequential to the kind shop worker. I’m not even sure if she noticed my thoughts drifting away, or if she was simply being friendly, but her action that afternoon was monumental in meaning, it reminded me that kindness and compassion, even between strangers, still exists in this world. 

As I walked back to my car, down the tree-lined street covered in fallen yellow leaves, I closed my eyes and took in a breath of fresh, crisp autumn air. For all the evil we’re shown on the news every day, for every absurd comment left on a Facebook post, for all the hatred that occurs between people, there is a force of counteraction, a kindness and love that exists in people so innately that it is given free of expectation or judgement.

Sometimes you’ll see this altruism in big gestures, like when a stranger risks their life for another. Sometimes it’s found in the love between a parent and child. Sometimes, it’s a small act, perhaps by sharing a meal with someone who is hungry.

And sometimes, it finds you when you need it most, in the form of a shop worker walking by, giving your arm a squeeze, and reminding you that we’re all in this together.