in August 2017 I wrote about three small acts of kindness that I had experienced. In each the giver did not do have to do what they did, but did so anyway, and in each case I had a better day as a results. Nice….
In this case the small act of kindness was by a company offering not to send me certain emails.
I’ll tell you more about this later, but first let’s have look back the previous three small acts of kindness.
In the first, a young man out walking his dog on a wet windy night noticed that I has left the window open on my nearly new BMW and took the time to knock on my door to tell me this.
This act prevented the leather interior being permanently marked. I know that wouldn’t have been the end of the world, but the car was my wife and I’s retirement present to ourselves and it was great that I hadn’t damaged it due to my own carelessness. Thank you sir, who ever you are.
In the second, staying a a really nice hotel for work for the first time, the staff noticed that I had brought in fish and chips to eat in my room. This wasn’t because their food was bad (it wasn’t, it was actually very good) but because sometimes only fish and chips will do and it wasn’t on their menu.
They immediately offered me a tray, a plate, cutlery and condiments to make eating in my room nicer. Pure class, Angmering Manor.
The third was a cashier at a filling station who took the time to locate that week’s copy of Motorcycle News from their backroom when I couldn’t find it on the shelves. Again, I was working away and having the additional reading material made my evening that bit nicer. Thanks.
This example is rather more personal. Just over three years ago my mum died aged 86 after a long struggle with breast cancer. I know she died confident in her strong catholic faith and happy that her five children ware all making their way happily on their chosen paths.
What I couldn’t have known at that incredibly painful time was that I would still be missing her just as much three years later. I suppose this isn’t surprising.
A mother is someone whose always been there, though good times and bad, whether tending to bruised knees of young children or the bruised souls of young and not so young adults, so it’s not surprising that her not being around left a huge hole in my life.
However, in return we children were able to make her last few years easier by organising and paying for trips to her native Switzerland and to visit our sister Margaret who lives in America.
Given mum’s stubborn streak about accepting help, this did demand a certain amount of subterfuge involving a significant number of “absolutely amazing bargains” that our sister Kate was able to “find on the internet”.
Before her illness, mum used to love swimming, but as the cancer progressed this became impossible and she really missed it.
As a consequence, seeing the look of pure joy on mum’s face as she swam with dolphins in America more than justified the white lies to me.
Each year a number of event bring back the pain: Christmas, her birthday and, as happened recently, Mother’s Day.
I find Mother’s Day particularly tough with the constant enjoinders to not forget out mothers, so it came a pleasant surprise to receive an email from a company called Bloom& Wild.
They specialise in sending flowers by post using packaging that fits through standard UK letterbox. This avoids all the hassle of waiting for deliveries and makes their operation more cost effective. Neat.
The email just very simply said:
I wanted to get in touch as I know that Mother’s Day can be a very sensitive time for some of us. So if you don’t want us to send you any Mother’s Day reminders this month, we won’t. Just let us know by opting out here. Then we’ll do the rest.
A nice touch from Bloom and Wild
I gratefully clicked the link, knowing that there would be at least one less painful reminder of losing mum.
Perhaps other companies could take note.
If you have any thoughts on this post, please don’t hesitate to leave a comment below.
Thanks
Bob Windmill
