Pay it Forward

This morning when I left from work, it was f-f-freezing outside. Thank God I had less than five minutes to wait before the train came. Normally, I put on my IPod as soon as I get settled into a seat on the train. However, my IPod's battery died the other day, and I had forgotten to charge it up. So I took my pick of a seat on a mostly empty train, and proceeded to drift off into my own thoughts.

We picked up a few more passengers at the next stop, and soon we were off again. It was then that I recognized a man I had seen at least once or twice before on my morning ride home. He caught my eye again because he is generally just an odd-looking man. He is an average height, stocky, black male. He has a pudgy face, with small, dark eyes, a wide nose, and a small mouth. His attire consisted of dark trousers, shiny black shoes, and a dark-colored windbreaker type jacket that did not look near warm enough for this weather. He also carried with him a leather, messenger-type bag. I could only assume he was on his way to work. But the thing that I think is really strange about him is his hair. He is balding on top, yet the hair that he does have on bottom is long. It looks like he puts a bunch of grease in it, straightens it out, and slicks it down flat against his head. But his hair is so thick and coarse, it cannot lay flat against his head, so it poofs out a little. It kind of looks like a flat brick of hair against the bottom part of his head. Very weird.

Anyway, the first couple of times I saw him, I thought he looked quite creepy, with his beady eyes and weird hair. But this time, I saw a different man. He looked tired, as if he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. And as soon as he got on the train, he started coughing. Not just coughing, but really coughing, like he was hacking up a lung. The problem was, he couldn't stop. You know when you're coughing in a public place, and you don't want to annoy everybody with your coughing, but you just can't stop? It was something like that. I could tell he was trying to suppress it, but couldn't, and he kept looking around to see if anyone was noticing him. He looked incredibly uncomfortable.

For probably a good twenty minutes this went on. About five minutes into it, I realized that I had a box of lozenges in my bag. I kept thinking to myself that I should give him one. But then I kept getting too scared or too shy. What if I trip and fall while the train is moving? What if he thinks I'm a real wierdo too? What if he really is a creepy old man and would take it as an invitation? But he looks like he's in an awful lot of pain... So I went back and forth in my head wondering what to do.

Finally the train was at my stop, which was also his stop, and I exited right behind him, so that I would have more time to figure out whether or not to approach him. I walked behind him up the stairs, and he continued coughing the whole way. When we got to the top of the stairs, he held the door open for me. Here was my opportunity. "Would you like a lozenge? I have some in my bag...."

He turned and looked at me, and his eyes were filled with tears from coughing so hard. He smiled at me gratefully, and said, "Well yes, I really would." So I gave him the box of medicine, telling him that I hope he feels better. His eyes twinkled as he said, "God bless you and I hope you have a good day." I wished him a good day as well, and we parted ways.

As I walked away, I felt giddy and smiley all over. It may have been the cold, but waves of chill bumps kept washing over me from head to toe. What a silly, small thing it was, but I felt like I had just won the lottery. I smiled all the way home, and until I snuggled up in my nice warm bed, easily drifting off to sleep.

And the moral of the story is:
So here's my advice to anyone who may be sad or lonely or angry or just having a bad day this Valentine's Day: Don't wait around for someone to do something nice for you, and then get upset when it doesn't happen. Go out and randomly do something nice for someone else. You might be surprised what happens.