The kindness of others

“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” 

― Mark Twain

AUBURN — I am seeking revenge against a pair of Samaritans who had the gall to be nice to me.

Can you believe these guys! The nerve of them for being decent and kind people!

I want my pound of flesh (see Shakespeare). And remember, no good deed goes unpunished. 

It was an extraordinary act of generosity committed by two of the finest human beings to walk the planet.

Now I want to pay them back, and the only way I can is to return the favor and be nice to them, too. They won't see it coming, but no doubt they will be looking over their shoulders. They know I am out there, dreaming up some devious plan of my own act of kindness.

The two conspirators are named Mike and Don - two common names for two uncommon men who exude decency and integrity. These are smart guys who give a damn about the right in things in life. These are guys with common sense and believe in the greater good.

They have their heads on straight, which means they will never have a future in American politics. Their reputations are beyond reproach, and I wouldn't get within 10 feet of them if they weren't such wonderful human beings.

Here's what these guys contrived to trigger my tirade.

Don is my neighbor who offered me the heating oil in his tank at no charge to me. He made the wise choice to switch to natural gas, shaking off the shackles of greedy oil companies. He is a great guy who shares his vast knowledge with me, and I of course, can always use a few pointers as a home owner. 

Anyway, his oil tank needed to be removed as well as the oil in it. That's where Mike, a co-conspirator, comes in.

Mike is an adept plumber and another fine example of humanity. This young man served his country in the United State Air Force as a mechanic repairing the feared B-1 bombers in Saudi Arabia for 10 years. Mike's experiences in the Middle East remind me of T.E. Lawrence, who tried to unite the tribes at the conclusion of World War I.

Don needed a plumber and Mike needed work, and the both of them decided to be nice to me. The two also became friends, and like expatriate Rick Blaine and French inspector Louise Renault in "Casablanca," it just might be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Well, after Mike transferred the oil to my tank and removed Don's tank from his cellar, my honest plumber and friend knocked on my door to inform me the job was completed. He had quoted me a ridiculously reasonable price to transfer the oil a couple of weeks ago.

"Hey Mike, how much do I owe you," I asked.

"You are all set," he said with a wide smile.

We looked at each other. "C'mon, what do I owe you," I demanded.

"We settled it between ourselves," Mike explained.

That was it; the deal was sealed - without my say in the matter.

That meant I was on the receiving end of about $440.00 worth of free oil thanks to the kindness of two gentlemen. My tank is nearly full because of these thoughtful jokers.

I offered Mike coffee, paying for lunch, frozen vegetables from my garden and the keys to my car.

OK, well three can play at this game as I figure out how to respond to such kindness.

They better keep looking over their shoulders. I am going to get those guys and it will be pretty.

The gift

It was subtle act of kindness that brought great tidings of joy to a family of three during a season where everybody is enveloped by the holiday rush and all its madness.

The person responsible for providing this rare holiday magic without any fanfare was a gentleman who I see once a year for a 30 minutes each December. He is a hard-working man whose kind eyes and sincerity make him a memorable human being. He also understands that times are tough and families are trying to weather a withering recession.

Each Christmas, this man, who is unforgettable even though I inexcusably forget his name, hauls his trees from up north and sets up shop in Auburn, Maine, to sell his fine pine trees and make Christmas a lot more merry for his clientele.  But it really doesn't matter that we don't know each other by name because we figured out long ago what is really important in our lives.

He is the kind of guy who shakes your hand and adds a "God bless you" before you leave the lot with a tree sticking out of your trunk. And he means it, and that is why it is a privilege to purchase a tree from this honest man each season.

Over the years, we often had these brief but intense conversations about our children and how much we love them. We both understand the importance of raising children even though we have only spent about 30 minutes each year on a cold December afternoon discussing our priorities and loyalty to our family

This December was no different as we were greeted by his warm smile, and of course, one of his first questions was how my son was getting on in life. His considerate inquiries about my son made our quick seasonal encounters enjoyable, because my family is my lifeline and he obviously feels the same about his brood. While my wife, Terri, is the foundation in our home, Anthony is the centerpiece of our lives.

I asked him how he was doing as I checked my wallet for some cash when I was surprised to learn I didn't have enough money to cover the cost of purchasing the tree. He overheard me talking to my wife, and he asked me if I had a problem with money. I told him I was fine, but that I had to visit an ATM and rushed off in the car.

Now I know he would have worked something out if I could not have afforded one of his fine trees. He is that kind of rare human being who is not solely motivated by profit. 

When I returned to the lot, we walked up and down looking for a narrow tree to fit into our small parlor.

We made our decision after much discussion. The employee gave the tree a fresh cut. I reached for my wallet to pay for the $22.00 tree. He told me $15.00 would work for him. My eyes widened. I wasn't looking for a bargain because I know this family works hard to bring these majestic trees to market.

I asked him if he was sure about this last-minute offer. He smiled and said it was fine. We again spoke about my son before I rushed home to put our prized tree in the house.

Sure, the $7.00 would not break his bank account or make me any richer. It was the thought that counted. I gratefully shook his hand and wished him Merry Christmas.

My wife was stunned when I told her about this simple act of kindness. 

We both knew it wasn't about the money.

It was about one man's benevolence during a holiday that is supposed be about giving.