tfpi

                     DO A RANDOM ACT OF KINDNESS DAILY
(Written 27 October 2001; posted 28 October 2001)

       When I left Arkansas in 1999, I was relieved. The previous two years had been filled with such heartache and sorrow, that the move to the big city in Texas seemed like a shot at redemption. There are times when our surroundings become so jaded, that we become cynical. Having spent the first twenty-two years of my life in Missouri, I was glad to leave -- I had become weary of my home. Since that fateful moment thirteen years ago, I have moved five times and lived in five states -- Tennessee, Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, and finally, Texas. Of these, I lived in Arkansas the longest, and besides my native Missouri, felt most like home.
       Let me be honest -- I’ve been thinking about Arkansas a lot lately. One of my assignments at the Law School had to do with Arkansas, and it triggered a lot of memories, mostly good. I guess time does heal all wounds --the bitterness I felt when I left Arkansas has passed. Sure, there were some bad times, some really bad times, but in retrospect, I can see that there were far more good times then bad ones.
       One of the things that is miss the most is the sense of community -- Arkansas is a very small state, and everybody knows everybody, and when times are bad, not only do people know, they are willing to pitch in and help. I’m not saying that everyone in Arkansas is a good person, because I am not. Trust me, Arkansas does have its fair share of scoundrels. However, all in all I met many more good people than bad there. And when times were bad, people who I would never have expected pitched in to help. After the disaster at Cabot, when I was in the depths of despair, the generosity of my fellow Arkansans shined brightly.
       One of the most generous Arkansans I have ever met is a fellow by the name of Jennings Osborne. Yes, the same Jennings Osborne whose Christmas light display of more than a million lights caused such a traffic jam that his neighbors got a court injunction forcing him to turn it off. Jennings Osborne is a self-made millionaire who lives in a mansion on a busy state highway in the hills of west Little Rock. He is known throughout Arkansas for his philanthropy. He has donated all of the fireworks for Little Rock’s display. He has sponsored “picnics in the park” for all of the citizens of Little Rock, rich and poor, black and white, with more food than found at a typical wedding reception. It was at one of these functions that I met Osborne.
       As the junior of the three traffic engineers for the City of Little Rock, I became the designated representative of the Traffic Engineering Division at public functions. As most of the functions were on the weekends, the senior traffic engineers did not want to attend, and as the newest kid on the block, it became my job to attend. One of these function was a “Picnic in the Park.” I was told that Osborne would be catering the barbecue; I was not told that Osborne would be serving the barbecue. After standing in line with thousands of other Little Rockians, I finally reached the end where the barbecue was being served. Much to my surprise, a heavy-set man who was sweating profusely was serving me, a lowly junior traffic engineer from a lower income neighborhood -- Jennings Osborne. Here was one of the richest men in the state serving me! Needless to say, I was humbled. That encounter has left a lasting impression on me.
       Unlike a lot of people who cloak themselves in the mantle of Christianity, here was a fellow Catholic who actually lived it. Let’s face it; the guy could have just bought the food and crowed about his generosity. Instead, he served it, to the poorest of the poor and the richest of the rich. Here was a real role model.
       A year or so after I first met Osborne, I started noticing some billboards that the Osborne family had rented, all with the same simple message -- “Do a random act of kindness today.” Most of the time when I see such a billboard, I tend to dismiss it, but not this one. Osborne had made such on impression on me that day in the park, that I took the message to heart. Since then, I have tried to do a random act of kindness every day. Some days I make it, some days I don't but I do try. Of course, people are shocked when you actually do do a random act of kindness. You must have an ulterior motive. People just aren’t nice to be nice.
       At a Subway store the other day, I helped the young girl behind the counter by stacking cup lids beside the soda machine. I needed a cup lid, she was busy, and it didn’t require much more effort to stack all off the cup lids than just to take one for myself. When I was leaving, the clerk thanked me, and I told here about doing a random act of kindness every day, and how much better the world would be if we all did a random act of kindness. Of course, she, and the other customers, looked at me like I was insane. That tends to be the typical reaction.
       I know that I have mentioned this in a previous column, but I think it is worth repeating -- if every person did just one random act of kindness, no ulterior motive, no strings attached, think about how much better the world would be.