The Power of Knidness

Nancy watched through the living room window at her mother who was planting flowers in the yard. She watched as the new neighbors, who had just moved in next door, pulled into their driveway. The neighbors got out of their car, smiled and waved at her mother. She cringed as her mother turned her back on them and didn’t return the new neighbors’ greeting. She watched as her mother stalked onto the porch and came angrily into the house.

“Why did the realtor sell those people that house! They don’t belong in this neighborhood!”, Sylvia said to Nancy.

“Why not? This is supposed to be a free country and they appear to be very nice people,” Nancy replied to her mother.

“Have you forgotten about 911??!!” Sylvia screamed at her daughter.

“No Mamma, I haven’t forgotten 911, but not every person from the middle east is responsible for what happen,” Nancy told her with a sigh.

“Humph!” Sylvia said to her daughter as she left the living room.

Nancy stood at the window as she observed her neighborhood. It was a diverse neighborhood and her mother had found fault with more than half of the neighbors. She didn’t understand her mother’s attitude. Her mother seemed to dislike every person who wasn’t like ‘us’, as she said when asked why she was unkind to people. Sylvia was always so angry with her whenever she interacted with the neighbors or people that Sylvia didn’t approve of. With a shake of her head, she decided that she was going to go down to the park and help distribute food at the food bank.

“I’m going to the food bank to help out,” Nancy called out to Sylvia.

“There you go again! I don’t know where you get these crazy ideas that you need to rescue all these people!” Sylvia shouted at her from the kitchen as she left the house.

Nancy loved working at the food bank. She loved helping people. It made her feel good and gave her a sense of being a part of the community in which she lived. She waved to the new neighbors as she passed their house. She had taken them a fruit basket on the day that they moved in. Sylvia had berated her interacting with them, but she had ignored her. Unlike Sylvia, she knew every person who lived on their block by name. She knew the names of their children and what type of work most of them did. She was invited to their parties and holiday celebrations. She found joy being with others. She hadn’t been able to get Sylvia to attend any of these celebrations and meet these people who were her neighbors. At the food bank she was in her glory as she helped to prepare bags of groceries and distribute them to families who needed them.

“You look rather sad today,” Natalie, a friend at the food bank said to her.

“I guess I am. My mother is so mean to people of other races and never has anything nice to say about them even though she doesn’t know them. We have new neighbors and she hasn’t even spoken to them. They’re wonderful people. He is an EMT and she’s a nurse. My mother doesn’t know because she snubs them when they try to interact with her. It hurts that people don’t like her, but it’s her fault because she’s not kind to people,” Nancy explained to Natalie.

“That’s not your fault and you can’t make her change her behavior. She has to want to change,” Natalie said to her.

“I know, you’re right,” Natalie agreed.

They were busily passing out bags of grocery when the sound of fire engines was suddenly heard nearby. Nancy looked in the direction of the sound and realized that the fire truck was down at her end of the block. She felt a sudden fear and began to hurry from the park toward her house. As she got half way the block, she realized that the fire truck was stopped in front of her house. She began to run. When she reached her house, she was stopped by a police officer.

“I live here! What’s going on?”, she asked in a panic.

“Your neighbors called in an emergency,” the officer replied.

“My mother, my mother,” she began to try to explain.

“Nancy, your mother is okay. She’s had a light heart attack, but we were here for her,” Sieida, her new next door neighbor said to her. Nancy turned to her and hugged her in relief and gratitude.

She turned to watch as they placed her mother on a gurney to put her in the ambulance. Nancy went to speak to her before they transported her to the hospital.

“They helped me,” Sylvia said to her. “They really helped me.”

“Just because other people don’t look like us, doesn’t mean that they’re our enemies,” Nancy said to her. “It’s called kindness and it doesn’t cost anything to be kind.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sylvia said weakly as they put her into the ambulance for transport to the hospital.

Nancy watched them leave. She wondered just how much the kindness of Sieida and her husband, Omar, would affect Sylvia. They had come to the aid of a woman who had mistreated them simply because they were people of middle eastern origin. Yet, they had stepped up and saved her life. Nancy prayed that her mother would appreciate that people didn’t have to look like ‘her’ to be treated with kindness. The power of kindness was a thing that could be shared with everyone.