The woman and man walking their respective dogs chatting who made a funny comment about me that we all laughed at.
The worker on the ladder who dropped his tool and I picked it up and handed it to him so he didn’t have to climb all the way down to get it himself.
The staff member who faxed something for me in her office.
When they treat me so good I have to tell them, “Relax people, don’t make such a big deal about it. I’m not God or something.” ( I don’t know for sure. Maybe I am.)
The schizophrenic, former Park Ranger, with the strained calf muscle, spreading cheer across the land, wherever he goes.
Yes, I was, for almost two years when I was 40 years old. I answered an ad in the newspaper that said no experience needed. I applied, I got hired and in short time I was cruising through the parks in my own company pick-up in my uniform picking up dead turtles (sorry @anon31257746) enforcing the no alcohol rules, talking to park-goers, and having my own $1000 walki-talki. It was pretty cool.
It’s a good characteristic to have to be able to find fulfillment in normal, everyday acts of kindness. I get that sometimes, but I also have a sour side.
Kindness is subjective to an extent. A lot of nefarious motives can be hidden behind a veil of kindness. It’s important to be discriminating to make sure you’re dealing with the real thing when you get kindness from others, but I would hate to be so careful that I removed all appreciation for kindness from my life.
)
