Gratitude Monday: Davey's gift

Last month the son of a colleague of mine was killed in an auto accident; he was 24. I didn’t know Davey, and only learned of his death through Facebook. To honor his life, his family asked people to perform an act of kindness as Davey’s Gift.

Well, as I say, I didn’t know the young man, but I have been consciously trying over the past few years to step out of my tight, defensive stance in life, to not take everything personally, and (in the words of a friend) to “come down easy when you could come down hard.” To let the little (and even some of the large) irritations slide off me and consider that the perpetrator might be having a worse day, week or month than I am.

But I’ve learned that I’m often caught off-balance when opportunities to display that kind of grace present themselves. It takes me a while to recognize and process what I’m seeing or hearing. That person who’s weaving through the crowd on the Metro platform trying to get to the place where the last car will stop and paying no attention to anything else? Me. The driver disinclined to reward you for gunning along the exit lane and then trying to cut in front? Me. That anxious, impatient person in the checkout line glaring as you wait until all your items have been rung up to fumble for coupons? Me.

So I’ve armed myself with the wherewithal to step out of that mindset. One of my weapons of personal kindness: a bunch of McDonald’s gift cards.

They’re easy to carry around in your pockets so you can disperse as the spirit takes you. Yeah, I worry about the nutrition, etc., but in the kind of weather we’re having, you can at least get something cold to drink and have a legitimate reason for sitting in the air conditioning for a while if you really need it.

I gave the first one to a guy I see regularly at the Metro Center exit at 12^th and G Streets. You never hear him saying anything, or even see him approaching anyone. He just stands or sits on a ledge (the tables and chairs outside are reserved for Cosi customers). In the winter he’s covered with what looks like an old Army-issue grey wool blanket. These days he’s got a towel draped over his head.

One recent morning I noticed him as I got off the escalator around 0630. It was one of those days that was going to have a heat index of 110. I turned as usual toward work, then stopped, dug into my bag and pulled out one of the gift cards. I didn’t say anything, just stood in front of where he was sitting. He pulled back his towel, saw the card I was holding out, took it and thanked me. I told him the value of the card and wished him well.

And I went on to start my day feeling better.

The next one went to whoever it is who cleans our offices, empties the rubbish bins and attends to the rest rooms. For most white-collar workers, clean environments and empty trash cans are just…there. It’s easy to never think about the people who do the actual work of scrubbing toilets, vacuuming carpets and all the rest of it. But because I like to work early, I’ve often run into the cleaning crews, especially the out-sourced contractors who keep companies like Cisco and Microsoft humming no matter how many layers of vendor management skim off their percentages.

And I well recall how, earlier this year, my employer’s cleaners were on the job during the snow storms that kept the office workers home.

So I wanted to show my appreciation to the person who does that for me every working day. I taped one of the cards to the inside of my recycling bin, along with a note saying thank you. Next morning it was gone.

In addition, these days I’m more likely to be the person holding the door for someone whose arms are loaded, or to make way for families on the Metro or to listen with attention to a story I’ve heard a few times before.  

I didn’t know Davey, and I don’t know the people I’m to whom I'm giving in my small way. But it doesn’t matter. I’m just passing on the kindness, and finding that in doing so, I feel better, even on the very bad days. 

You might consider doing so, too. You can do it for Davey, or for someone else in your life, or just for your own self. See if it doesn't make you feel the same gratitude I do.