Unexpected Gifts

Sometimes it takes an act of aggression to discover random kindness.

Happy holidays! After circling around a couple of times in a small lot, I waited as someone got in her car and prepared to back out. The woman in the car behind me began honking her horn and wildly gesticulating from behind her steering wheel. I took some deep breaths, but the honking continued. Maybe she didn't understand that we were in a parking lot and I was waiting for someone to pull out. I got out of my car and as I approached hers, she swung her door open, screaming, "Move your car!"

"I am waiting for this parking place," I said. I got back in my car and pulled into the spot that had indeed opened up. She whipped her car around to the other side, got out and continued yelling: "You just couldn't walk five feet!" I explained again that there was no other spot at that moment. She continued yelling, her blue eyes blazing.

"Wow," I said. "Happy holidays." Okay, I was slightly sarcastic at his point, but still not yelling. "Let's calm down." My heart was pounding fast and hard.

"Oh, calm down, calm down!" She shrieked, mimicking my gesture of surrender. "You know you approached my car, I can report you for assault." I smiled -- actually, I might have laughed -- and I walked away into the coffee shop. As I tried to calm my flailing heart, a young man stood next to me and spoke. He had the nicest face I've seen in a long time.

"Wow," he said, "that was crazy. It was so obvious you were waiting for a place."

As I told him that she said she was going to call the police to press charges for assault, she walked into the coffee shop and continued her rant.

"I have your license plate number, I can report you for assault."

"No," my new friend said. "That was not assault. I was a witness."

I thanked him, bought him his coffee and got his information, just in case I did need a witness. As he wrote his name and number, I told him that a few years ago, I could have been that woman and how grateful I was that I was no longer allowed stress to destroy me. He nodded and handed me his information.

"Thanks, Alex," I said. Then I registered the last name. "Wait," I said, "you know my son!" I told him his name. "I'm his mom."

"Oh my god," he said, "I've heard so much about you! I've heard he's doing great."

"He is," I said, "he is."

We kept shaking hands and grinning, as though we'd each found our long-lost friend.

"Gimme a hug," Alex said.

There we stood, embracing in Starbucks. My heart calmed. Unbridled aggression and a hug, both with strangers, in the span of five minutes. There he was, a witness in more ways than one. In few words, we acknowledged the healing in my son, too.

Thank you stressed out woman, two weeks before Christmas, for reminding me what really matters: There is real random kindness in the world, healing is a force more powerful than sickness. Whatever  whatever my worries as I face a lean bank account on the edge of the holidays, they are nothing compared to my depth of gratitude for the goodness that is afoot.