You Reap What You Sow

This is a story about an act of kindness that floored me.  One that was actually jaw dropping to me.

It is not an act of kindness we performed. 

Instead, it is one we received.

We have been working on upgrading our bathroom.  What started as a simple project – replace a wonky faucet – quickly snowballed into much more: getting a new vanity, counter, sink, medicine cabinet, light fixture, painting the walls, replacing an outlet…  Oh, and yeah, a new faucet.  That’s how things always go, isn’t it?  Home repair projects start small, then grow exponentially and drag on forever.

 

Anyway, this work is being done in our beach house.  We escape here when we can to take in the sunshine and sand and recharge.  When we are not here, we rent it to vacationers (which gives us the income to keep it all going).  Because we “share” it with strangers, we need to keep it up and have it look nice.  (I say this to point out that our “real house”, the one we live in the majority of the time, needs MAJOR BATHROOM WORK and has for, well, years!  But have we tackled it?  No, no we have not…)

 

And because it is a second home, we do not have all of the bits and bobs here that we do at our main home.  We have limited storage space here, plus, we just live a “pared down” existence here, which is good for our souls.  The garage is small, and it has to house important things like beach toys and lawn chair cushions and bikes and our teeny tiny Fiat Pop car.  All of that does not leave much room for tools. 

 

At home, we have loads of tools and usually can find whatever we need to get a job done.  But at the beach house, we sometimes knock on neighbors’ doors and ask to borrow this or that.  We used to have a great next-door neighbor here who was thrilled to share his tools with us.  Sadly, he has long since moved away.

 

So, the other day when we realized that to make the new vanity fit, we would need to cut a piece of TILE, we were stumped.  David had brought his Dremel tool on this trip with him for a craft project I plan to do, but he didn’t bring the right blade for it to do something as major as cutting tile.  No neighbors had what was needed.  An Amazon search brought up an expensive Dremel brand single disc, or 6 off-brand cheap discs…  But going that route meant waiting 2 days (overnight delivery is not a thing here like it is at home), and we were trying to get the vanity IN.  So, we did what we do soooo often – we headed to the hardware store (the hardware store is David’s very favorite place to shop)!

 

We found the Dremel section and located what we thought was the right bit, but there are so many pieces to Dremels, and we needed the second piece that would hold the disc on.  We decided we needed assistance so hunted down an employee.

 

The employee was so nice!  When asked what Dremel bit was good for our project, he said, “Oh, I don’t ever use Dremels…  I use a GRINDER!  And look – I still have all 10 fingers!” he said as he smiled and showed us both hands.

 

“Ah yes!” David said jokingly.  “Wanna loan it to us?”

 

“Sure!  For a 6 pack of beer!” the employee joked back and we all laughed.

 

I remembered a tool I had given David for Christmas a few years ago and asked if THAT would work in this situation.  It turns out that yes, if we had that here at this house, that would be a good tool for this job.

 

“Well, since the Dremel pieces are going to be so expensive anyway, maybe we should invest in one of those tools for this place??” I said.

 

And that is when the 3 of us started the hunt for a Dewalt Multi-Tool.

 

Now people, if you have never strolled the tool aisles of a large hardware store, you do not know this.  But there are a surprisingly overwhelming number of electric tools…  There seem to be specialized tools for each and every job.  And not only that, but each BRAND makes at least 1 or 2 versions of each type of tool.  And the batteries from brand A do not work with brand B, so if you have brand A batteries for something else and want to share them with your new toy, you want to buy brand A again.  This makes it very confusing, and very hard to find the exact make and model you are in need of.

 

Anyway, the employee was really dedicated to helping us find what we needed.  He looked it up on his computer and took us to where it was.  Or I should say, where it was supposed to be.  Only, it wasn’t there.

 

We hunted up aisles.  We hunted down aisles.  We looked on end-caps.  We looked on special tables.  But that one specific tool was no where to be found. 

 

He was a bit embarrassed I think, and felt he was wasting our time.  Plus, he probably kind of felt that he had “failed” us (though it was no fault of his, and it was not for lack of trying!).  Eventually, he said, “Ya know…  I think I have my grinder in my truck.  Do you wanna just borrow it??”.

 

And this time, he was not joking.

 

He was serious!

 

“Uh – YES PLEASE!” was our enthusiastic reply.

 

“Wait here, I will be back…” he instructed.

 

As we waited, he popped out to his truck and set the grinder outside of his toolbox to make it easy to find.  He came back and told David the make and model of his truck and where it was parked.  “Just use mine,” he said.  “But wear eye protection and gloves!!” he added.

 

I was shocked.

 

A complete stranger was going to loan us an expensive tool, no questions asked.  He didn’t even ask for our NAMES or PHONE NUMBER!!

 

We got his name, and figured out a plan to return the tool when we were done with it.  I asked for his number before we left so that we could contact him and tell him when we were bringing it back.  We checked out with our other items, and off we went to hunt down his truck.

 

It was just so TRUSTWORTHY of him!  I mean, when we opened his big, beautiful, new truck (which he had left unlocked so we could get in!!), there were lots of tools in there.  We could have easily cleaned them out, loaded them into our car, and took off.  He didn’t know us from Adam.  But he trusted us, and he was kind.

 

We took the grinder, replaced it with a $20 bill, and headed home. 

 

The next day, David used the borrowed tool and successfully cut the tile.  The vanity fit right into place and it looks beautiful.  I sent the kind guy a few texts with photos so he could see the project that he had helped us with. 

 

Eye protection, gloves, and a fancy grinder tool!

David is getting ready to take the tool back to him today, along with some fresh peaches from our tree.  We will look for him, I am sure, each time we shop at that store. 

 

I won’t forget this act of kindness. 

 

It meant so much more than saving us a few bucks. 

 

It reminded me that there are good people in the world.  People who trust others, who believe in strangers. 

 

People who are KIND.

 

Now that I tell it, it sounds like such a simple story.  I mean, why did it surprise me so much?  And honestly, when I think about it in reverse, it is very much something I would do…  When you see someone who needs something and that thing is something you have, why not share it??

 

But most people don’t roll that way.  Most people can’t put down their guard.  Maybe they have been burned before, or maybe they were taught to not talk to strangers.  Or maybe they see the world in a more practical light and think doing something like this is ridiculous or risky.

 

When I recounted this story to a friend, she said, “Kindness begets kindness.  You reap what you sow, Susan”.

 

What a sweet reminder. 

 

That amazed feeling I got, that jaw dropping sensation when I reviewed in my mind what had just happened, I have been honored to provide that same feeling to many, many people via acts of kindness.  I bet after we pay for a stranger’s Christmas tree, or put quarters in people’s laundromat washing machines, or pick up the tab on someone’s groceries, or buy a gift off a stranger’s online wedding registry…  I bet those people feel the same way I felt when the employee said, “I think I have my grinder in my truck.  Want to just borrow it??”.

 

It was fun being on the receiving end of a big act of kindness. 

 

Thanks, new friend.  Your generosity, trust, and kindness meant more than you know.

Dear Mrs. Susan

Sometimes Kindness Activist funds are used in pretty simple, straightforward ways.  Purchasing groceries for neighbors in need.  Buying thank you presents for local teachers.  Surprising strangers with a gift.

But other times the money finds its way out into the world to try and right a wrong.  Repair a wound.  Or make a very painful situation just a little bit better.

That’s what happened recently when a young friend reached out with this message,

“Dear Mrs. Susan, 

One of my friend’s dad has brain cancer and today the doctor said that he might only be able to live for a few more weeks. I was wondering if you had any ideas of ways that I could make my friend feel better and not as sad. Thank you so much for your help.”

My heart ached. 

I knew the dad that she was talking about.  He was our neighbor, a very cool man who had the exact same diagnosis that my sister had a few years ago.  When I had read that he had glioblastoma (GBM) and that his wife was asking for help, David and I pitched in.  They needed rides for him to get him to and from the seemingly endless appointments that come with a GBM diagnosis – doctor visits, radiation, nutritionist…  We signed up for some shifts of transportation, and Kindness Activist donated $100 to the GoFundMe for the family.

And now my young friend was reaching out asking for ideas of how to help her friend, the man’s child, “feel better and not so sad”.  Oh, it is all so hard.

I replied to the email: “I know your friend’s dad, too.  It makes me very sad that the dr said the tumors have spread.  You probably don't know this, but my big sister Annette died of the same kind of cancer.  When your friend’s dad was first diagnosed, Mr. David and I drove him to some doctor visits for appointments.  Kindness Activist also donated to the Go Fund Me.  I like your idea of finding a way to help your friend feel better and not so sad.  Do you have any ideas what we could do for them?  

I mean, we could do something like take them out for ice cream and a movie...  Or to a play (I think they love plays, right?).  But honestly, in my experience with my sister, they might not want to be away from their dad much right now.  Knowing that there is not much time left makes you want to be sure to be there for every moment you can (in some people - maybe your friend is not like that, obviously everyone is different).  Do they like to read?  I know their mom does.

Let me know if you have some ideas, ok?  You are so smart and caring and kind.  I know the MOST important thing now is for you to be their FRIEND.  They are likely very scared and sad.  Please write me back and let me know if you have some ideas.”

We went back and forth via email for a bit and settled on a gift basket.  I would take my friend to Target, and she would choose items that she knew her friend liked.  It seemed like a solid plan. 

Until he died before we could get the gift basket together.

It was so sad.  I suspected that my young friend had not experience a lot of death or grief – not many children have.  And I imagined how frightened she must be.  I mean, if your friend’s dad can die, doesn’t that point out the vulnerability of your own father? 

She emailed again – she had seen the news about his death.  I think we both felt awful that we had not been able to make time to get the basket together, but we set a date to go shopping and her mom came along.

This child was so THOUGHTFUL.  I mean, I know that she is kind and caring, but she was so careful in choosing what to buy.  She looked over all of the candy before making selections.  She carefully debated which type of popcorn would be best, which drink (“I know she loves tea!”).  She chose a nice journal, then we debated which pens would be best and examined all of the choices.  She chose a perfect basket to put everything in.  And to finish it off – a gift card for Fortnite, which she knew her friend loved.

We checked out, they dropped me back at home.  She added a note she had written for her friend and they went to deliver the basket.  She had a plan: put the basket in front of the door, get back in her car, and text the family to let them know it was there. 

It wasn’t long before I got another email,

“Dear Mrs. Susan,

When we dropped of the gift basket I put it on their step, knocked and then ran to my car. Their sister answered the door gave two thumbs ups and a heart. After my friend messaged me and said “omg thank you!!” And sent some emojis I said “I hope you like it” and they said “I do!” I think that they really appreciated it. Thank you again for letting us use kindness money.”

Will some candy, snacks, a journal, and Fortnite make the pain go away?

No. 

But maybe it will be a reminder that the child is not alone.  That their friends are there for them, ready to listen when they want to talk. 

Because that is what friends are for.

Heart emoji.

Kindness Activist funds used:  $74.89

Worth every penny.

Happy 5th Birthday Little Yellow Free Pantry!

Who could have imagined that 5 years ago, when we cut the ribbon and opened the Little Yellow Free Pantry, it would become the symbol of COMMUNITY that it is today.  I for one would not have predicted how big this labor of love would grow.

In those first weeks the pantry was open, no one came.  No one knew the resource was available.  Cans of peaches and boxes of cereal would stay on the shelves a few days before finding their way to a new home.

We put up signs, oh did we put up signs.  We had signs in several languages asking people if they were hungry, explaining we had free groceries.  We hung signs all along our fence and at the local bus stops.

But still, few people came.  No one knew.

Then slowly, somehow, the word started to get out.  And magically, guests began to come.

And they haven’t stopped since.

I often say that people come to use the pantry 24 hours a day.  That may sound like an exaggeration, but it is not.  People come at 1 am after finishing a late-night shift.  People come at 7 am on their way to work or school.  People come at 3 pm for an afternoon snack.  People come at 6 pm to get food to make dinner for their families.

And the donations – donations for the pantry arrive 24 hours a day, too.  Often when I wake up and check the donation bin on the porch before work, there are new items in it.  Amazon and Costco deliveries come almost every day. 

It is hard to explain what the pantry means.

Of course, it is a resource for food.  That is the obvious.  But it is so much more.

It is a place for friendship.  It is a place for community.  It is a place for gratitude and acceptance.  It is a place for diversity.  It is a place for caring and a place for kindness.

I will be honest - 25-year-old me didn’t picture 60-year-old me sitting on my front porch steps chatting and serving a hot meal to someone experiencing homeless.  Or knowing how a guest who rents a room nearby likes his coffee and running down to make him a hot cup on a cold day.  Or talking with people who live in their cars or at the shelter or in a house that holds multiple generations of family. 

We have met so many amazing people through the pantry.  There’s “lentil man” – big surprise, he loves lentils.  There’s the little baby who has come to the pantry her whole life – first strapped onto her mamma’s back with a colorful cloth, then in a stroller, now walking on her own.  There’s the person who won’t take any money we offer, but happily sat with us on Christmas day just talking for an hour. 

And the donors.  The donors are amazing.  If you follow our stories, you know about E.A. Raven, the patron saint of the LYFP.  But you might not know about Pat Walkup, who donates bag after bag after bag of nutritious, tasty food.  And Whitney Engstrom, who kept sending food even after she moved to Hawaii.  And the kind person who set up an Amazon subscription to shelf stable Almond Milk to be delivered.  And “snack man” – who walks to the pantry on a break from work and fills it with perfectly arranged treats.  There are also the people who get food from the pantry, and also bring what they have to share what they can so that others might eat, too.  There’s Duffy who bakes amazing cookies to share.  The Girl Scout troops who keep us stocked in cookies.  And the many, many others who donate so much to keep the pantry alive.

And the Pantry Crew – the small but mighty group of amazing humans who keep the pantry running when we can’t.  And Danyi – who has spent HOURS breaking down boxes from donations to prepare them for recycling and cheerfully greeting guests and donors.  And the sweet people who seal bag after bag of rice and beans.  And the kind family who pours oil into jar after jar, so that donations of big jugs can help many families cook.

To most people it looks small.  After all, it is just 2 little shelves.  But those shelves feed a community.  Over $87,000 worth of food is donated and given away every year here.

But to me, even more important than the food is the people.

People who come to the LYFP get more than nutrition. 

They get respect.  And variety.  And a listening ear if they want to talk. 

That little box has changed lives.  Lives of donors.  Lives of guests.  And most certainly my life.

Happy birthday LYFP.  Here’s to many more.

"Why Are You Doing This?"

“Excuse me, but why are you doing this?”.

Such a simple question really. 

But no simple answer.

We spent about an hour and a half today spreading kindness at Inova Fairfax Hospital in Virginia.  We both had the day off of work, so had time to use to do whatever we liked.  And what we realized we would like is: giving treats to strangers.

If that sounds random, well, it was. 

My partner David had a doctor’s appointment today in the Inova complex.  When it was finished, I asked if he would like to join me in doing something kind.  He’s always up for an adventure, so as expected, he said yes.

We drove to the nearby Lidl grocery store and stocked up on snacks - chips, gummies, chocolates.  Then we headed back to the hospital to find people to surprise.

We started in the radiology department.  My sister got radiation when she had brain cancer, so I know what it is like to sit in the waiting room chairs and hope that your loved one is going to be ok.  Our neighbor is currently undergoing treatment at Inova, and we drove him to a couple of appointments there, so we knew exactly where to head.

The kindness was simple – walk up to people and ask if they would like a snack. 

It turns out, that little act of kindness went a very, very long way.  People were delighted to be given a snack.  The vast majority said yes and eagerly made their choice.

But really, I think it was really about more than the food.

It was about someone acknowledging them.  Being willing to say hello.  Smiling.  Being present.

We gave treats to patients.  To family members.  To care givers.  We even gave a treat to someone who recognized us from a local Facebook group (how random).

If you have never had treatment for cancer or had a loved one who has, you may not know about “the bell”.  When a patient finishes their final treatment, they get to ring a big bell to announce that they are done.  Well, we were fortunate enough today to get to witness a woman ring the bell. 

She was wearing a hat – I am guessing she did not have hair.  She was a tiny woman, but her spirit was big.  She rang that bell and we hooted and cheered from all the way across the room.  And as we cheered, others in the waiting room felt they were granted permission to join in, too.  The patient hugged the person who was with her, likely her daughter or maybe sister.  They cried.  The nurses cried.  I cried.  Another woman in the waiting room cried.

Of course I offered the bell ringer some treats and congratulated her.

As I was walking back to my seat, that’s when someone said, “Excuse me, why are you doing this?”. 

They weren’t judging us or anything, they were just genuinely curious why two random strangers were hanging out in a lobby waiting for new patients to check in for their appointments.

I didn’t have a good answer ready.  So, I just said something like, “Oh, my husband had a doctor’s appointment in the building today, so we decided to pass out snacks while we were here.  We’ve been the people sitting in the chairs waiting, so we understand it is not easy.”

And that was a correct answer.

Sure, I could have also explained about Kindness Activist.  About how we find ourselves in situations like this very often.  How, because of amazing donors to our non-profit, we have money to do random acts of kindness like this and spread joy.

But none of that explanation was necessary really.

I guess the real answer to “Why are you doing this?” is:

Because we can.  Because we love to.  Because spreading kindness has become part of our lives, part of our DNA.  Because the world could use more kindness.

It doesn’t take a lot to be kind.

Just an open heart.

An open mind.

A bit of time.

A touch of courage.

A lot of compassion.

Perhaps some creativity.

And for sure some awareness.

Being kind makes the world a better place.

And sometimes, if you are lucky, being kind puts you in the exact right location at the exact right time, and you can cheer when somebody rings the bell.

Just be kind.

 

Kindness Activist funds spent:  $26.34

Hearts warmed:  around 50 (52 if you count our hearts)

P.S. - if you would like to donate to Kindness Activist, a 501C3, you can do so via Venmo (@KindnessActivist) or PayPal (@KindnessActivist).  Your donation is tax deductible and will be used to spread kindness in the world.

A Single Boot

I looked out the kitchen window, me safe and snug in my warm house, and I saw a boot.

A single boot. 

A gray rubber boot.

Next to it, a foot wrapped with plastic.

That’s our view of the Little Yellow Free Pantry from the kitchen window – we see guests from the knees down.  The pantry covers the rest of their bodies and their faces, which sometimes leaves us to guess who the visitor might be.

“David, look.  Their foot is wrapped in plastic…”

 

They stood at the pantry looking at their choices.  They were one of few people brave enough to get out in the cold today and come for supplies.  And the ICE – the sidewalks are slippery and some have not been shoveled.

 

Yet there they were.  One foot in a rain boot.  One foot in plastic.

 

I bundled up in my coat and went out to greet them to see what else they might need.  When I could see more than their feet, I recognized them immediately.  It was one of our guests who lives in their car.

 

“Do you need BOOTS??” I blurted without even thinking if the question might be disrespectful.

 

“Yeah.  Yeah.  I could only find ONE,” they said, pointing to their rainboot.  “And this other foot is broken…  It is in a tennis shoe.”

 

One boot, not insulated.  One broken foot.  A tennis shoe wrapped in plastic.

 

“What size are you?” I asked, hoping that we might have a pair of warm boots for them.

 

They told me their size, and I asked what other winter things they might need.  I made a mental list, asked them to please wait for me, and ran downstairs to see what we had.

 

First – boots.  I was so disappointed to see the only boots left are kids and smaller adult ones.  That made me sad, but I started collecting the other items.  Big fluffy down coat – check.  Warm socks – check.  Warm hat – check.  Hand warmers – check.  Gloves – check.

 

As I was turning to rush back upstairs, I saw a shoe box…

 

I opened it and found a BRAND-NEW pair of beautiful, warm boots that were the right size.  Yes!

 

I carried everything out to the porch and found the guest hunting for a sock.  They had found one on our porch (leftover from yesterday – it had been covered in ice), and were hunting for the mate. 

 

“I found a sock,” they told me.

 

“Hey, I brought you 2 pairs of warm socks!  Here!” I said as I handed them over.

 

The coat was received with gratitude.  I demonstrated how the hat had a liner inside to make it even warmer.  They looked through the basket of mittens and chose the work gloves plus a pair of large mittens designed to be worn over gloves.

 

“And hold on a minute – I have some boots that might work, too!  I will grab them,” I told the visitor. 

 

Their eyes lit up when they saw the beautiful new winter boots, tags still attached.

 

“These are the size you asked for.  I think they will fit your good foot, but I am not sure about the broken one.  How about you take them and try them?  If they work, great.  If not, please bring them back for someone else.”

 

I asked what other food they might need that they hadn’t found in the pantry, but they said they had enough.  Really, I think they were probably overwhelmed with all of the winter gear and didn’t want to ask for more.

 

This person could be me.

 

They appear to be about my age.

They are always clean.

They are quiet and polite.

They told me once that they had a house or apartment, if I remember right, they had a fire and lost everything.

They seem smart.

Don’t appear to have a mental illness.

They just, as they told me one time, “Have had a hard couple of years”.

 

This person could be you. 

 

It could so easily be any of us.

 

Broken foot covered in plastic.  Walking on ice. 

 

Living in their vehicle.

 

I can’t imagine how cold that must be.  Sure, they can turn on the motor sometimes and run the heat, but I bet that is not often.  Can’t waste fuel that might be needed to actually go somewhere. 

 

I came inside and cried.

 

This work warms my soul and breaks my heart at the same time.

 

Thank you to all who support Kindness Activist.  Because of your generosity, we persist.

 

Thank you to whoever donated those fantastic warm boots.

Thank you to those who brought over coats and scarves and other winter gear.

Thank you to people who bring over or order food to help us keep the pantry filled.

Thank you to those who donated fancy gowns and jewelry for the Fancy Outfit Library so that neighbors can borrow them.

Thank you to neighbors who show up at our events.  Neighbors who pay to get their nails painted by our young helpers, who stand in line to buy a cup of cocoa from June Bug, who shop at our fundraisers and online auctions, who buy plants at the plant sales and get photos taken at the kindness photo days.

 

And thank you to the amazing people who donate money.  The funds you so graciously give keep us alive. 

 

Soul warming.

Heart breaking.

 

It is possible for both of those to exist simultaneously.

 

P.S. – A word on donations:

- Monetary donations are tax deductible and can be made via PayPal, Venmo, or check.  Any amount is greatly appreciated and will be used to spread kindness.  Donation info can be found here:  Donations – KindnessActivist

- Donations for the Little Yellow Free Pantry should be placed in the tan and green plastic bin on our front porch.  If they are ordered from the Amazon wish list they will ship directly to us.  Link to shopping list of most currently needed items and wish list here:  LittleYellow Free Pantry - Google Docs

- The donation window for Project Warmth (winter clothing) has closed for the season.

- We are not currently accepting donations of clothing (fancy or otherwise) or household items.

One Can of Sardines

As 2025 comes to a close, I am thinking of kindness.  Of so much kindness that I was honored to receive, witness, and do this year.

More specifically, I am thinking of the small acts of kindness.  The ones that are easy to overlook.  But if we squint – if we take time to notice them – they are actually changing the world.

I would like to tell the story of one of those small acts of kindness.  One that, most definitely, changed a life.

We have a dear friend that we first met through the Little Yellow Free Pantry.  She was a pantry guest and now has become a very valued volunteer who puts in many hours supporting our organization.  She has explained to us many times how the food from the pantry saved her life.  She had nothing to eat, and chance brought her to the “yellow box” as she likes to call it.  She wrote to me, “I still remember when the feeling of hunger repeatedly led me to your yellow food box, and feeling the peace of mind after receiving food. I have also seen many visitors with thin faces eagerly walk towards your food box, feeling the joy after receiving food.”  She knows the feeling, and can now witness it in others.

She, like many people in our area, is an immigrant.  I find such beauty seeing her experience life in America thru “new eyes”.  So many things she witnesses through her volunteer work with Kindness Activist are firsts for her.  Christmas caroling – oh, that was so fun to see her discover.  “I thought this was only in MOVIES, but it is real!  We sing!  All together, we sing for neighbors.  Such beauty!”. 

And giving warm clothing to strangers.  She first saw the winter gear displayed in front of our home and benefited from it.  She needed warm clothes and felt so fortunate to receive them.  But now, a couple of years later, now she not only receives the much-needed clothing, but she shares it, too.  I have seen her quite literally give a stranger the shirt or coat off her back.  The gloves off her cold hands.  She wrote to me, “We supply clothes for the unknown, and supply winter clothing.  People get hats, scarf, gloves, hand warmer.  They stand in the snow, the smiling on their faces no money can buy.  That was real smiling from their heart and every cell, kindness is not only a word in America, it is a real life here.”

Small acts.  Not flashy.  Not newsworthy.  Tiny acts of kindness that create ripples.  Ripples that are spreading, creating even more kindness.

For a long time, this friend basically survived on canned sardines from the Little Yellow Free Pantry.  They nourished her, and she ate tin after tin of them.  One time when she was at our home volunteering, a delightfully kind neighbor, Gary, walked up with a donation:  tins of sardines.

I called for our friend to come meet this donor.  I introduced them.  And oh – her smile.  It was brighter than the sunshine that afternoon.  “This man,” I explained, “This man is bringing sardines to help fill the pantry.”

She was so grateful.  She thanked him profusely and explained the story of how she had survived on the same exact food from the same exact source.

The two have now become friends.  The donor and the recipient, both thankful for one another.  He helped arrange an art show for her which fueled her creativity and her soul. 

One afternoon recently I came home to find this volunteer working hard on our porch as she so often does.  We had a long chat, and then she told me, “Today, I brought something for the yellow food box.  I brought what Gary brought.  I brought what helped me live.  I brought a can of sardines.  It is only one can, I do not have much.  But I am thankful for Gary, for the food box, for the sardines.  So, I share the sardines.”

Small acts of kindness.

Small, but life changing.

Making a difference in the world.

Making it a kinder place.

One winter coat.  One cup of cocoa.  One gift from Santa.

And one tin of sardines at a time.

Happy holidays to all.  May 2026 bring peace, joy, and kindness.  May we keep our eyes and our hearts open and notice even the small acts of kindness.  For it is those acts that will change the world.

Postponing the To Do List

It was a sunny, warm autumn day.

A day that started slowly – catching up on emails, playing “my games” (Connections, Wordle, Strands, and Wridges – gosh when I write that out I see I play a LOT of games).  Moseying around the house.

But when it came time to get busy, I was ready to GET BUSY.

I even wrote a to do list (and managed not sit it down somewhere and lose it!).  On the list:  Walgreens, bank, post office.  Three tasks that can be completed on foot – perfect for a nice day.  List in hand, bag on shoulder, off I went.

Walgreens was the first stop – fail.  The product I wanted was triple what I knew it would cost other places.  No thanks.

Bank – slow as molasses, but got what I need to do done.

Next up was the post office.  Only, instead of walking the short way, I backtracked a block to walk the long way.  I did this because I knew that walking that direction, I might well pass a person experiencing homelessness who I am intrigued with.  They write notes and tape them onto buildings and I have only been lucky enough to meet them once – usually I just stop and read the myriad of cryptic notes.  Anyway, I knew if I went the long way I might see them.  It was lunch time and I planned to ask if I could buy them lunch.

But before I could get very far, I spotted something.

A cell phone in a pink case sitting on a bus stop bench.

Oh my…  I felt weird picking it up.  I didn’t want anyone to think I was stealing it.  But I looked around and the only person nearby was a man who was already talking on a phone, so obviously the one on the bench couldn’t be his.

I picked it up and opened the case.  There were 2 old photos inside.  The phone was locked with a PIN, so I couldn’t just open it up and see the contacts list to find “brother” or “boss” or “friend” to call. 

 

But then I saw the paper…  A little recipe/notecard was tucked inside the case.  It was filled with handwriting – name, then number.  Name, then number.  I recognized it as the system many older ladies use (we have a friend who does the same exact thing). 

Hmmm, this recipe card held the clues I needed!  I stood at the bus stop a while, hoping that the owner would come rushing back to get their phone.  When they didn’t, I got to work.

First – examine the card.  Is the first name the person she (by this time I felt the owner was a she) was closest to??  I didn’t know how to pronounce that name though.  I was not sure what nationality the name derived from, but I was hoping that whoever I called would speak English so I could explain the situation easily.  I scrolled down to a female name and dialed…

No answer.  Of course no answer – the incoming call was from a strange number!  They thought I was spam or a telemarketer.

So, I left a voice mail.

Called another number on the card, no answer.

Left a voice mail

Called another number, no answer.

Left a voice mail.

And in between my calls, the mysterious cell phone kept getting TEXTS.  Text after text after text.  A new text popped in every 90 seconds or so!  Texts about car insurance.  Texts about a home owners insurance policy.  Sales texts.  Random texts.  This poor woman gets a lot of texts!!

I could see the texts pop in but couldn’t click on them to read them.  But I did notice that they were all addressed to the same person:  Faina.  “Dear Faina” this and “Dear Faina” that. 

I left basically the same voicemail each time.  “Hi, my name is Susan.  I found a cell phone at a bus stop in Arlington, Virginia.  It has a paper inside with a list of names and numbers, and you are on it.   I think the phone belongs to someone named Faina.  Do you know her?  I have the phone.  I don’t want to leave it at the bus stop because I am afraid someone will take it.  Please return my call.  Thanks.”

In between leaving voicemails, I came up with a new tactic:  FACEBOOK.  I posted the photo above in 2 local Facebook groups and asked if anyone knew a woman named Faina and that I had found her cell phone.

This sweet comment came in on one of the posts: “If it's the same lady I am thinking about, she walks up and down the Pike a lot. She comes to our restaurant (The Celtic House) a few times a week. You can leave it with us if you like and we can pass it on to her, I see her almost every day.”

Ah-ha!  Celtic House!  That is near the bus stop!!  I felt like a Private Investigator piecing this story together bit by bit.  Faina.  Woman.  Senior Citizen.  Popular with scam texters.  Takes the bus.  Likely lives near Celtic House…

More phone calls to numbers on the card.

More voicemails.

As I was deciding which name to call next, my phone rang!  A call back!

Only, the man said he did now know anyone named Faina.  Boo!  (Why did Faina have him on her list??)

I left 11 voicemails. Yup – Faina had a LOT of names and numbers on her little card, she wrote on both sides.

Finally, another call back!  And this woman KNEW Faina!  And was very, very thankful I had found the phone and kept it safe.  She gave me Faina’s address.  I was right!  She lived only a few blocks from where she got off the bus.

I took a minute to tell the woman that Faina was getting texts.  A LOT of texts.  And it seemed like they were trying to scam her.  I wanted to make sure someone knew and could help the woman so she didn’t get tricked into sending money somewhere.

I told the woman on the phone that I would walk home and get in my car, then drive to drop off the phone at Faina’s apartment.  On my walk home, Faina’s granddaughter called on FAINA’S phone and I answered it (didn’t need a PIN to answer).  I explained the situation and she, too, was very relieved.  She explained that her grandma has some memory issues, and I warned her about the texts, too.

When I got home, I found some tiny cupcakes that a kind donor had left for the Little Yellow Free Pantry.  Faina needed some cupcakes!  Poor woman was probably having a bad day, what with having lost her phone and all.

I drove down Columbia Pike toward her house, and that’s when I saw her:  FAINA!

She was walking ON THE PIKE because the sidewalk was torn up with construction.  I do not know HOW I knew it was her, I just DID!  I felt it!!!  I wished I could pull over and holler her name, but because of the construction I couldn’t, so I parked at her apartment and went in.

I explained the situation to the ladies at the front desk.  “Oh, FAINA??” they said, “She JUST left!”.

I KNEW IT, y’all!  I just knew that had been her!!  I confirmed what she looked like, left my car parked in the apartment lot, and headed off on foot to find Faina!  I was on a mission!  Me, the pack of tiny cupcakes, and Faina’s phone, hot on her trail!!!

But I didn’t see her.  So, I rushed back, jumped in the car, and drove down Columbia Pike looking for her.  I thought maybe she was at the bus stop checking to see if her phone was there.  Nope.  Couldn’t find her.

But…  I had the clue about a restaurant she frequents…  I pulled into the Celtic House parking and went in.  I asked if they knew her and if she was there.  They did know her, but she wasn’t there at the moment.  DRAT.

Defeated, I returned to the apartment, still hoping maybe Faina had gone home while I had been out hunting.  But the front desk ladies said no, she was not back.   I wrote a little note for her (including my name and number) and left the phone and cupcakes with the staff.  They said she often stops to talk with them and they are friends with her, which made me happy.

That was all around 2:00 PM. 

Then at 7:19 PM, my phone rang…

You guessed it, FAINA!

Just as I had been afraid to mispronounce the name on her handwritten note, she mispronounced mine.

“Slisa??” she said.

“This is Susan,” I replied.  “Is this Faina??”.

YESSSSS IT WAS!  She called to thank me for finding and returning her phone.  She was so sweet!  She wants me to come visit.  “I am not working, I have time,” she said.

I have time, too, Faina.

The laundry may not get done.

The sheets might not get changed.

Several items may not get checked off of the eternal to-do list.

But I have time.

Time to connect.

Time to make a new friend.

Time to be kind.

Because if I do not take time – no, if I do not MAKE time for moments such as this – how meaningful will my life be?

I am grateful to have a perspective of kindness.

Of caring.

Of slowing down when the opportunity presents itself.

I will make time to go meet Faina.  I will talk to her, maybe bring her more treats.

Because that is what life is.  A series of moments.  Of strangers.  Of tiny cupcakes. 

And of connections.