It really is.
The world feels like it’s falling apart, to which you might say, “wow I am so glad I am wasting my time reading this uplifting nugget,”
I was upset, okay?
My dad was there to say, “well, what the heck were you going to do with it anyway? You weren’t going to wear it again. What are you, Baby Jane?”
Others. . .
It was a cold winter morning.
I was 23 and living on the only bad street in the entire Upper East Side neighborhood, 73rd between York and the FDR drive.
I bought my coffee every morning across the street from my office at Pershing Square.
“Come on, just get one!” my friend “the coffee guy,” how in New York your daily friends have such names, would say.
And I’d smile and say, no thank you. Partly because I was an assistant, so my money was rationed, and I chose to spend it wisely on booze and caffeine;
He looked at me and knew.
I said, “no thank you.”
He put my latte in a bag brown paper bag. He said, to keep it dry.
When I got to my desk I opened the bag and saw inside there was a muffin.
I think about that muffin all the time.
But more importantly, I think about the kindness of that man. Of one person.
How it only took one second for him to stop and something so small, to remind me that in the world there was still good.
The world will probably always be a mess, because we are messy people.
And with that truth, we need a reason to keep trying. To keep hopeful. To keep from losing it.
We need to remember that it only takes one second to make a difference in someone’s day.
We need to remember that the best portion of a good man’s life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
(Okay fine, and remember that I didn’t say that, but William Wordsworth did.)
And it could be so good.