celebrate kindness

Last night as the summer sun swept across the horizon fading from the day, my son begged to go to the playground. “Let’s go, Mommy!” The smile stretched across his six-year-old face as I listed all the local playgrounds we could visit. “Pick whichever one you want and we will go!”

He pondered his options, then chose the last one on the list. It was the farthest from our home, but “has the most awesomest rock wall.” Who could resist that?

When we arrived, the playground was busy, but not mobbed. There were a few parents idling around, several teenagers walking the path, and a handful of children running and playing.

Not a single person here shared our skin color.

He ran towards the rock wall before I could even close my car door. “Take a picture of me, Mommy!” His small feet scampered up to the top and there he stood, so proud of his accomplishment.

Another boy joined him at the crest and they spent the next hour playing together. There were no formal introductions, no hesitation, just two boys happy to play with each other.

They ran through the jungle gym and slid down the slide, waiting for each other at the bottom to do it all again. Their make-believe banter echoed across the metal monkey bars as they celebrated their mission of evading dangerous crocodiles below. “Follow me!” they chanted as they zig-zagged through the park, their small bodies darting from one end to the other.

I helped the boys into the swings, their small legs too short to touch the ground, then gave them both five pushes (“and one for good luck!”) Then I sat on a bench to watch the boys swing higher and higher in the sky.

As I scanned the playground area, I saw trash scattered across the grass. Keeping an eye on the boys, I walked over and picked up the discarded plates, napkins, and plastic drink pouches, placing them inside the dumpster where they belonged. (Yes, I was struck by the irony of the trash so close to the dumpster with the “Please Don’t Litter” sign attached. My best guess is the trash was in the large box on the dumpster and had blown out from the wind.)

As night began to fall, we wrapped up our playtime with one last spin on the tire swing. “Mommy! I made a best friend today!” my little guy exclaimed as his giggles rang across the meadow.

Yes, you did, sweet boy.

Yes, you did.

This is how the world should be.

Sometimes all you need is a simple surprise to make your day.

Yesterday afternoon was a scorcher. Ninety-degree weather with a heat index well into the 100s. My sister and I planned to get the kiddos together, thinking a late afternoon walk through Maymont Park might be a nice, refreshing change from the day-to-day mom mode of summer.

Nice, yes. Refreshing, no.

The children’s zoo entrance was blocked due to construction, so we had to find another way in. The bears exhibit was closed and empty. We had tantrums. We had tears. We had a streak of angry petulance from one of the six-year-olds when we tried to take a group photo. (My child, not hers.)

We walked and we walked and we walked. There wasn’t much of a breeze, so our sweat clung to our clothes as if we had been caught in a downpour of rain. Some may have questioned why on earth we were still out in all this heat, but we knew what we wanted to see: the beautiful waterfall in the Japanese Gardens.

Our children climbed the rocks to sit in the tiny pagoda, a family tradition from when my sister and I were young and would come here with our dad. We reveled in the moment, knowing we were passing down our own childhood memories to the next generation.

Two hours later, we ended our walk where we began, gave our hugs goodbye, then headed home. As I pulled into my driveway, I saw an Amazon box by my front door and was surprised to see my name on the front. I thought perhaps I had received an item in error, or maybe my daughter had ordered something delivered in my name. I carried the box into the house and sat on the floor to see what was inside.

Using scissors, I carefully cut the packing tape across and lifted the edges to discover a speck of red peeking out. That’s when I started to laugh with childlike wonder… it was a hummingbird feeder!

Attached to the feeder was a small note from my friend, Karen Richardson, who blessed me with this surprise in response to my comment about her blog post this past week. Both she and Donna Donner described the joy of watching hummingbirds from their yard and I stated that I needed a hummingbird feeder, too.

And with that one statement, a random act of kindness was delivered.

JOY!!

What Karen and Donna don’t know is that we did a “deck overhaul” just a few weeks ago. We took down the table, chairs, and umbrella, stained each and every wooden plank, then purchased two lounging chairs, three folding chairs and a small side table to make the deck more like a relaxing “outside office” for me to do my writing this summer.

And now… I can watch the hummingbirds linger as I write, read, and play.

Thank you, Karen, for your gift of friendship and kindness and for reminding me how wonderful it is to be on the receiving end of a simple surprise. You absolutely made my day!