The Kindness of Relative Strangers

For any of you that love classic movies, I'll make a reference to A Streetcar Named Desire.  Don't worry - I'm not going to outline the plot for you or (as if it matters) include a spoiler.  I simply mention the play and movie for one line, probably the most famous line.  The delusional, alcoholic Blanche DuBois in a moment of lucidity proclaims that "I've always depended on the kindness of strangers."

Luckily, I'm not a boozy, aging Southern belle, but I guess you could call me delusional.  Most of us are, really, because most of us believe that we get through life under our own steam and that, except for rare circumstances like injuries or new babies, we take care of ourselves without much help.  Even if we don't want to admit it, this is simply not true. We can express it in a poetic way by saying "No man [or woman] is an island," or "It takes a village," but in any case we exist in families and societies not because there is no other choice, but because we need each other.  We need someone to deliver the mail, tend to the consistency of our utilities, produce and sell groceries, etc.  We take for granted that most of these people who help us do so politely and kindly.  What a fantastic civilization we get to be a part of!

The extra perception I have gained about this dependence on other people is that it is crucial to understand and appreciate the symbiotic nature of our relationships, even the most mundane ones.  I depend far more on kindness now than I ever have and so I notice that kindness is available to me.  The store clerk who bags my groceries efficiently and with friendly small talk makes my day easier now that I'm not as strong as I used to be, for example.  Another example is the staff of the St. Al's Cancer Care Center.  They do their jobs with so much compassion and consideration that a tedious visit there is made much more bearable.

One incident is etched in my memory.  I had spent the morning getting a radiation treatment that left me queasy and wilted.  I couldn't walk at this time and still wore my neck brace, so when I was wheeled into the waiting room of the oncology ward to get a post-radiation IV for fluids, I was a weak, slumped figure in a well-worn hospital gown, almost insensible to the world around me.  Then suddenly I felt hands grip my shoulders and looked up into the face of an elderly woman I didn't know.  Her eyes were on fire as they stared into mine. She spoke to me in a voice that was soft and kind, but utterly determined:  "You can do this. Look at me - I am 80 years old and if I can do it, you can do it.  Don't forget!"  Then they wheeled me away from her, but our eyes remained locked until I turned the corner.  I can't explain it, but the energy that passed between us was a purposeful gift from her to me. I'll never forget her kindness or her encouraging words.

But back to our tendency to be delusional. . .we're also delusional in the sense that we think we know the people around us pretty well.  Okay, maybe we realize that we don't really know the store clerk or the oncology nurses, but surely we know our friends and family.  Or do we?  One surprising discovery provided to me via this cancer experience is that not only do I not know strangers, I don't even know my friends and family.  Once the cancer hit, friends made themselves of service immediately and in incredible ways. Who knew that Jenny was a brilliant fundraiser who could rally others to my aid?  Who knew that so many friends would rally?  Who knew they would make it possible for my family to pay medical bills and retain our home? I didn't know them as well as I thought - they are better, kinder, and more generous than I could have imagined.  Who knew that my family members would gather around me in protection of my self-esteem? That they would cherish me when I couldn't complete all the tasks to care for them as I used to?  They are better than I imagined, golden-hearted, loyal.

I guess what I'm trying to say in this long blog, is that we shouldn't wait for a life-threatening illness to strip away our delusions.  We should recognize our dependence on other people - it will help us be humble in the way the Savior suggests we should be.  We should never assume that we know all there is to know about a person - because we can't see into someone's heart, they are, in a way, a stranger to us.  We should always be willing to look more deeply for the good in others and reserve judgement (it's ALWAYS based on insufficient knowledge).  Again, the Savior Himself showed us how important this is when he provided the parable of the Good Samaritan - a stranger from whom no good was expected but from whom life-saving kindness came.

So I've taken Blanche's line to heart.  I may not have "always depended on the kindness of strangers" but that's only because I didn't know I was already doing it.