As the evening approaches, I prepare for the night ahead. I wipe away the tear stains on my face, pack my lunch for work, prepare dinner for my grandmother, help her eat because she is still too weak to, put my scrubs on, pin back my hair, help my grandmother in the bathroom, give my mother report of the events of the day, and leave for work. I have to keep moving to distract my mind from my elderly grandmother and tending to my dog who is expected to die in a month from cancer. I’m exhausted from working the night before and sleeping periodically throughout the day while helping my grandmother and dog around the house. This has been ongoing for a few months now, I’m low on sleep, on strength, and Advil from my back hurting.
Unfortunately, it’s all showing up on my face, aging me years beyond my actual age as the bags appear and my eyes glossed over more than ever. I’m driving toward the hospital, trying my best to leave my personal frustrations at home, mentally preparing myself for the night ahead. So I decide to grab a cup of coffee before embarking on a 12-hour shift OF taking care someone who has come in overdosed on drugs and/or too intoxicated to walk. As I attempt to play some soothing music, I approach the drive-thru, and see the same woman who has been making me coffee through these long days and nights. I place my order, and come around the corner to pay. But as she sees my haggard face, her facial expression changes from a smile to a worried grin. She asks me how I’m doing and I say fine without giving her any eye contact because I’m doing anything but fine. However, I’m too embarrassed to look her in the eye since the desperation I feel is all too apparent on my face. I divert my gaze downward.
Moments later, I receive the coffee I ordered, but a size larger and as I give her the cash she tells me it’s on her. It was the first time in what felt like years that I felt relief, as if the whole world wasn’t on my shoulders, that I wasn’t alone, and that there was someone who was so kind to me in a moment when I felt like giving up.
She had shed sunlight in the blizzard of emotions that I had been experiencing. I felt the warmth of its rays in my heart and I carried this not only the night I worked chasing intoxicated people and holding the hands of a person who was dying, but for long after. I had felt such a relief that I sobbed on my way to work as I thought about the kind gesture she had bestowed upon me. It was because of her that I had the strength to hold the hand of a dying person as they drew their last breaths, that I had the patience to soothe an overanxious patient and their family members, and had the energy to tend to patients who came in intoxicated and consistently soiled the bed while passed out unconscious.
As the year comes to an end, I want to give a friendly reminder to those who don’t think they make a difference in their community or that no one pays mind to their actions that they make a difference each and every day. The woman who helped me didn’t make a lot of money, wear a cape, or start a non-profit, but worked in a coffee shop. She is an ordinary person who made an extraordinary impact on not only me, but the people I took care of that night. Giving back to the community doesn’t always mean you have to organize a blood drive or start a can food drive, but giving back in a million little ways can make more of an impact.
As this year continues, I hope people remember that their actions do effect others and that it does touch other people beyond that one person.
In light of all the devastating things that have happened this year, it is more critical now than ever to do all the little things that can uplift someone else’s spirits. This could be something as little as opening the door for someone who is coming through the door or paying for someone’s coffee who is in line behind you. These seemingly minute acts of kindness can chain react and put a smile on someone’s face who may be experiencing one of the worst days of their life.