There is Always Hope

We live in hard world full of people who control so much of our lives and understand so little of what we truly do and go through on a daily basis.  I strive to have a good heart and be a good person with a smart enough balance that I don’t end up hurt or too trusting.  I lose faith in humanity almost daily.  The news depresses me, my job (while I am so, so, so grateful to have one) presents challenges daily and my life, while generally all around good, goes through hard days. Everyone experiences this. It is living, it is existing, it is being right here, right now.

What makes it all worth it? Everyone has their own definition. Your faith. Your family. Your happiness.  For me, what makes it all worth it, is hope.  Hope for a better future, hope that I can become a better person and hope that not all people are really all that bad.

They aren’t.

I witnessed a truly random act of kindness the other day.  The person who gave this act of kindness chose to remain anonymous and did it with no desire for recognition or reward.  While eating out at a restaurant the other night, I watched a person on their way out the door walk by a table full of young men in their fatigues, clearly members of our military.  In a spontaneous moment, the person leaving the restaurant tracked down the waitress and told her that they would like to pay the bill for these young men.

The waitress hesitated and said, “Are you sure? It’s kind of a lot! Do you know them?!”

The good citizen replied, “Yes I am sure, and no, I do not know them, but I know what they do.”

When the waitress discreetly appeared with the bill for the person to sign, she shook the person’s hand and said, “That is just the sweetest thing I have ever seen anyone do, I just want to shake your hand and thank you so much.”

The person paying the bill for the soldiers quietly replied, “They sacrifice for my freedom, they are the reason I have a job and can even have the privilege of buying them dinner.  Please do not make a big deal out of this. Please do not tell them WHO paid for their dinner. Please just tell them I said, ‘Thank You.’”

The bill payer then walked quietly out of the restaurant to their vehicle and drove away.  You will never know that person’s name.  The soldiers will never know who bought them dinner.  The waitress may well never lay eyes on the person’s hand that they shook in awe over such a nice thing to do.

But me? I know who that person was and I could pick them out on the street if our paths were to cross. I never would though, I will respect that person’s privacy and hold in my heart the joy I saw at the young men craning their necks looking out the window trying to identify the stranger who showered them with gratitude and kindness. I will also remember how much joy I saw in that completely random moment of love.

And I will keep my faith in humanity.

And I will remember that it is all worth it.

That there is always hope.