The last day I was in Nashville for my transplant evaluation, I bravely sent my youngest off to catch a flight back to Fort Hood, TX. I waited to burst into tears until after he was on the elevator and out of sight. *sigh*

I dilly-dallied a bit before herding my luggage together to head for Vanderbilt and a clinical trial infusion. I beckoned a bellhop to assist.

The gentleman who arrived was indeed a gentle man. He was most kind. I suspect he'd already inched several years past retirement age, and was working to supplement his income or simply needed purpose each waking morning.

When we reached the hotel's porte-cochere I suddenly realized I had no clue where my car was. My son had parked it the night before after dropping me off at the front entrance.





I was having trouble breathing because the POC wasn't meeting my saturation needs. No matter, I still found the situation amusing. The irony. Like... what else could possibly go wrong with my week!

The kindly bellhop took my keys and then took off to roam the large parking lot that surrounded the hotel... all the time pushing the unlock button, which would lead him to my car.

He wasn't a young man. I don't think he was especially healthy, either. I noticed his attire was a bit threadbare, his shoes needed re-soling, a dab of polish, maybe. Yeah, he was missing some of the exterior accouterments we sometimes eyeball to assess a person's worth. But omigoodness, his kindliness, humility... his ready generosity to help me - all were beautiful and didn't go unnoticed. He shuffled his tired shoes around the parking lot just for me and my lost car. He took charge. I suspect he took one look at me and knew he was in better shape. And he was.

He found the car, loaded my luggage.

I took his hand and gave him an additional tip. He rigorously demurred. I rigorously insisted. I kept his hand in mine and looked straight into his old and tired eyes and said, "You make a difference. I want you to know this. I never want you to forget. You make a difference."

I won't continue with my story. It would sound too terribly sweet and corny and made-up, but it was a glorious moment that this lovely, kind man and I shared.

It was restorative for both of us.

****

Just so you know - It's not that I think kindness should be rewarded, but there are moments... those special moments when people make a difference and you know you can too.

Thanks for listening.


P.S. The photo is a random shot of a mega-parking lot... used for special effect. :)