Personal Stress Relief from Economic, Environmental Issues

My mother, Diane, asked me to write about an encounter I had with a complete stranger a few months ago. I, personally, do not often share many of the random acts of kindness demonstrated by myself or others, as I feel that what makes said acts special is the anonymity behind them. However, out of great respect for the website my mother has dedicated so many countless hours toward, and due to the fact that the amount of hard work and effort for her cause is seldom in this day of age, I am proud to share my experience.

A few months ago I found myself at a Kinko’s in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My girlfriend’s ninety three year old grandmother silently passed in her sleep a few days prior to my arrival, and being the caring boyfriend I’d like to consider myself to be, I booked a highly overpriced flight out there to give my love and support to her family. Her grandmother was an amazing woman who fought for equal rights for women her entire life. She was a founding member and ex-president of her sorority, as well as a member of various equal rights groups around her area. Her husband, who had passed years ago, was a high-ranking official in the VA in the 1960’s. My girlfriend and I were at Kinko’s because the family wanted to make a slide show to give respect to my girlfriend’s grandparent’s life’s accomplishments. Lindsey and I were scanning invitations to White House ballroom parties hand-signed by JFK. We scanned “thank you” letters from other high ranking government officials along with invitations to every Presidential Inauguration since JFK. We were in quite a rush, as we had to scan the material, put the files on a CD, and then transfer the files to a software program to create the slideshow. As we were waiting in line for the cashier, a man, who I would later find out was named Joseph B, stood in the line adjacent to us, speaking with a cashier. Mr. B. presented as a person from a lower socio-economic status. Although clothed appropriately, one could sense that the jeans he wore that day were probably worn most days of the week. However, just like I don’t judge a book by its movie, I don’t judge a person by their appearance (most of the time). Joseph was being honored by a club that he was a member, coincidentally, for all of his life’s accomplishments. He was inquiring about having his hand-written resume typed and printed so that he could distribute his life’s accomplishments to the members of his club. The cashier, although very helpful, followed Kinko’s protocol for such an inquiry and explained to Joseph that the job would cost a little over $30+ and he could pick his copies up from them in two days. I distinctively remember the look on Joseph’s face, as a frown appeared to overwhelm it. He couldn’t afford the $30+. This was, however, that important to him that he decided to go ahead with it. That was all I needed. I asked Lindsey if she could give me 15 or so minutes. She was watching the entire ordeal with me, and said “of course” almost before I was done asking. I approached Joseph and asked him if he would allow me to do the job for him. He wasn’t quite sure what I was proposing or how to react, so I pleasantly took the paper from him and turned toward the cashier. I bought a small amount of computer time and acted as Joseph’s stenographer. Joseph was a band leader, helped youths from poor neighborhoods become involved with music, and was an active member of various clubs in his community. I added my two cents when appropriate, primarily with proper rules of grammar. We ran out of computer time so I bought more. I formatted his resume so that it looked professional, spruced it up here and there, and printed it out for him to see. I told him I would make it perfect for him. I printed out three different resumes, all with different formats. Joseph loved the third one. He took the printed resume and made fifty copies of it. The cashier rang him up for a grand total of $2. Joseph’s speech was subtle as he thanked me for all that I had done. I told him that he lived a wonderful life full of accomplishments and that any person lucky enough to know him should know what he was all about. He grabbed my hand and shook it, thanked me again and walked out. We took our CD, paid, and left. Lindsey and I could have walked out of that store a half an hour earlier, and we would have forgotten about Mr. Joseph B. for the rest of our lives. But we didn’t, and that’s what makes all the difference.