My most recent column in The Dallas Morning News:
About this time last year, when public events happened every day and most of us had never heard the word “coronavirus,” I sat atop a Jeep with a colleague, both of us representing our school district in our community’s annual parade.
How often do you get to be in a parade? It was a remarkable morning.
The fanfare had ended, and I was still giddy about waving to friends and strangers along the route as I looked for my daughter in the crowd. After Katie and I reunited, we said goodbye to friends and started for the car.
That’s when I spied one of my former students, Reese, and her mom, Michelle. They had something to show us. So Katie and I followed them west on Main StreWe turned left toward the town’s gazebo, and there stood my son, who should have been in Auburn, Ala., but somehow was in downtown Frisco.
We hadn’t seen Cooper, then a college freshman, in more than two months and hadn’t expected to see him until Thanksgiving break.
There was screeching and crying and hugging. Lots of crying and hugging.
Michelle, her husband and Reese had conspired to surprise us with this weekend visit. They secretly contacted Cooper, offered him a plane ticket home, arranged to pick him up at the airport and delivered him to the two people who missed him most of all.
The day was suddenly exponentially more remarkable.
Michelle and her family pulled off this surprise in honor of my late husband’s memory, performing an incredible act of kindness to celebrate Steve’s birthday.
This November marks the 10th year that we will celebrate Steve with a party that anyone can attend and that recognizes the powerful role of compassion and generosity. This year we’re calling it 52 Acts of Kindness because Steve would have turned 52 this year.
Though Cooper’s surprise appearance is high on my list of joyful memories, acts of kindness don’t have to be grand to be important. And if there were ever a time that calls for extra doses of kindness, 2020 is it.
We have endured the stress of a pandemic that continues to affect health care, family life, education, the workplace, politics and the economy. Current events continue to divide communities. Natural disasters keep on coming, oblivious to humanity’s general malaise.
We have lost comforting routines. We have lost human connection. We are overwhelmed.
Some are empty, with little or nothing to give. They need to be enveloped with love.
Thankfully, many of us have kindness to spare — words, time, resources. And every single time that I am feeling overwhelmed and somehow fight the instinct to retreat (which is sometimes all you can do out of self-preservation) and instead do something for someone else, I feel a little better.
Anyone who has extra joy to share is welcome to join us for the party.
Donate to a food bank. Pick up debris from your street or neighborhood park. Write and deliver notes of encouragement. Surprise a family with sidewalk chalk art.
Treat a stranger to a cup of coffee. Rake and bag leaves for a neighbor. Shop for groceries for someone who shouldn’t get out right now. Make a list of all the things you appreciate about your friend, sister, son, spouse, pastor, counselor, favorite gas station attendant, barista, teacher, librarian, colleague — and share it with them.
Maybe surprise someone in a way that they’ll still be talking about it this time next year.
Steve’s birthday and 52 Acts of Kindness is Nov. 4, the day after Election Day. I can’t think of a better day in 2020 to share some love.
Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. She can be reached at tyradamm@gmail.com.
