Of Bears and Penguins

Advent Day 3 - Extraordinary kindness:

As I was sitting with my Mother the other evening, a memory crossed my mind.

"Do you remember when the chimney sweep came to our house in Houston to clean the chimney, and he gave me a piece of red felt that he said had been caught in the chimney, and that it must have been from Santa Claus?"

"Yes," she said. "That was kind wasn't it? You were so excited to show Daddy and Jimmy."

Now that really was something. He didn't get paid extra for that, he just knew it was an easy way to brighten a child's day, and it really did. And there was intentionality in it, I mean, I presume he took the time to cut a piece of red felt, and carry it with him. Unless he really did find it in the chimney...

I can hear you lovable cynics out there already: Well, of course if you're nice to a customer's kids, they're more likely to call you again. It's good for business.

Nonetheless, good for business or not, I think it was, at its heart, simply kind.

I notice in myself and in others, that we all are quick to suspect people of having some type of angle or alterior motive. They want publicity, they want additional business, they want something from us. I think that's part of our modern world - somehow we start to think of actions as what they gain for us, rather than what they might accomplish for others.

Maybe I'm way off base in that assessment, but I don't neccesarily think so - I've talked with a lot of high-school and college students who engage in particular volunteer work because it looks good on applications and resumes. And I've talked with many college seniors who apply to programs like Teach for America solely because it looks good on their resume.

That there is an expectation of that alterior motive is a sad thing, a cynical thing, it makes all of us smaller people.

But I still believe in pure, unadulterated acts of kindness. I think the Chimney Sweep engaged in one. It took him little time or energy, and probably gained him no profit, but I've remembered it all my life.

Whenever I think of kindness, I always think of a man named Charlie who was a greeter at my childhood church for years and years. I didn't know him outside of church, but I remember that every Sunday, he took time to say good morning to my family, and to me. He always asked about School or Sunday School, complimented my dress (these were the old days, there was a dress and tights with shiny patent dress shoes every week), and he always had a peppermint or a butterscotch candy in his pocket for me - always. That was kindness.

It is so true that everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle, and it is so true that small kindnesses can make a world of difference to a person's day.

That's part of what this Christmas season is about, I think. Kindness in the midst of deep trouble and despair. That in the midst of the world of trouble and woe, the Dear Christ enters in, to redeem, to make new, to heal, to bring kindness to those who need it, to bring hope to those who feel forgotten.