The Kindness of Strangers

Living in New York, you usually don't enjoy the outpourings of kindness from people. There are too many bodies in this Gotham to allow for the indulgence of such gestures. However, once in a great while, you will see some selfless act that reminds you that humans are, at the heart of it, very good people.

I ran a serious of errands today on the Upper West Side. When I got to the subway, the platform was clogged with throngs of people. That was a bad sign. We waited. Minutes passed. 12 minutes to be exact. In New York, 12 minutes between subway trains is a very bad sign. Eventually a train came and the assembled mob crammed on board. I was shuttled into the middle of the car. I couldn't move an inch and I had no available pole to grab onto. I'm a tall girl so I stretched up my arm and flattened my hand to the ceiling for stability. It's a poor substitute. The train lurched forward and stopped sharply. I was clutching for any means of support.

Suddenly a 30-ish Dominican man, standing against the doors with one hand around his young son, reached his hand out to me. Instinctively, I took his hand and he led my hand to his shoulder. "Hold on," he instructed. I did. And this man held me steady for many stops.

Curiously, we did not speak. He smiled gently at me--his eyes were kind. And his young son wore a Mets hat, so I knew I was in good company.

When I came to my stop, I thanked him with genuine humility for his considerate gesture. He smiled and said, "Pass it along."

That, my friend, I will.