tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54097902078036540272024-02-06T19:10:51.462-08:00Any Kind of KindnessAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-62415932711410392372013-06-03T15:50:00.000-07:002013-06-03T15:56:10.943-07:00Kind or Crazy? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What would you think if a large, scary man, began to chase your car and yell at the top of his lungs? KEEP DRIVING? Cause that was my thought. </span></span></div>
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Driving home from a long day at my internship in West Hollywood, where it’s not too rare to run into some odd situations, a rather ragged looking man on the side walk began flailing his arms, yelling, and chasing my car. I tried to ignore him and attempt to move through the next few green lights. L.A. traffic prevented this. Out of breath the man came up to my passenger window. I struggled to role my window up. But, before I could grab a hold of the controls he got to the window and put his hand on the door. I’m frozen, petrified. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">He quickly ameliorates my feeling of terror and replaces it with relief and gratitude. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">“your jacket is on the roof of your car.” He said. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">And with that he turned and continued on his way. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I put my car in park and quickly grabbed my jacket before the light turned green. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I yelled after him “Thank you!” He turned and smiled then was quickly engulfed by the sea of pedestrians. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">What a wonderful person. He went out of his way for a complete stranger. It also happened to be my favorite jacket. Thank you, where ever you are. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">
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</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-80464908141941987532013-02-06T12:00:00.002-08:002013-02-06T12:03:21.419-08:00The Kind Comedian Returns: Eric Vega & Dolphins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmesSMexAH8QSuUVOcO-cgXmrsT4xWCCh3gITwOrO7Fo4MukDbanrBIKkJBLvmm1N0Dkka5q-SJJ83lUkqG8FWdLKakNDIh4rAVCudA0DhRt8WJX4uHNiJD8X_VM6G0EIf4PM4861ddUP/s1600/293252_10150384907646383_1874897703_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmesSMexAH8QSuUVOcO-cgXmrsT4xWCCh3gITwOrO7Fo4MukDbanrBIKkJBLvmm1N0Dkka5q-SJJ83lUkqG8FWdLKakNDIh4rAVCudA0DhRt8WJX4uHNiJD8X_VM6G0EIf4PM4861ddUP/s1600/293252_10150384907646383_1874897703_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><b>You love dolphins. </b></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Of course you do, everyone does. How could you not? They’re adorable, friendly, and can do backflips. Triple threat. They are creatures who capture our imagination, and for good reason. They are considered to be amongst the most intelligent species on the planet. Maybe this is why we can empathize with them so much, because they are so like us. And like us, they are capable of caring for one another.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I was recently linked to a scientific video that was as inspiring as it was heartbreaking. For the first time ever, a pod of dolphins was witnessed trying to rescue an injured friend. The injured dolphin seemed paralyzed and unable to swim on its own. The pod took turns swimming under their (for lack of a better word) friend to keep it’s head above water. Researchers believe that they were trying to keep him from drowning.</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>After several minutes, something even more remarkable occurred. The dolphins began to form a sort of raft under the injured dolphin to support it. They all came together and swam in formation to prop up their friend. When I first saw the video (linked below) I was absolutely touched. I’m no scientist, but it really does seem like evidence of compassion and even a sort of love that these animals seem to have for one another. Unfortunately, they were unable to save the dying dolphin. After it had stopped breathing, the several members of the group remained with the body until it sank.</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And since that was the saddest thing ever, I’ll leave you with a video of a dolphin asking a diver to remove a hook from his fin. Something about this example of interspecies communication and cooperation is just inspiring to me.</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0e1f99;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=d8e_1359227532">http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=d8e_1359227532</a></span></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://uk.news.yahoo.com/injured-dolphin-swims-to-divers-for-help-kona-hawaii-141036720.html#6K58Xl6"><b>http://uk.news.yahoo.com/injured-dolphin-swims-to-divers-for-help-kona-hawaii-141036720.html#6K58Xl6</b></a></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Thank you Eric! :) </b></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-7212264735675223942013-02-03T22:15:00.000-08:002013-02-03T22:15:04.616-08:00Another Kind Cabby<br />
Ecstatic to return to L.A. I decided to see a movie on my first night back. I wasn't able to rent a car till the next day so I took a cab. I informed the driver that he was going to be my last taxi ride. He turned around and said "Oh man! I'm honored!" He was so wonderfully genuine. The ride was only 7 minutes long but somehow our small-talk about where we were from turned into a boisterous discussion about how important it is to listen to yourself and recognize when a change in your life is needed. When we pulled up to the theater he turned the meter off and said "I hope you have a fantastic night and life, I am so glad I was your last cab ride!" I tried to insist that I pay him but he just shook his hand, smiled, and opened the automatic door. Before I left, I snapped this picture of him.<br />
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Thank you to this cab driver where ever you are in the world.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-70329929463742168432012-12-18T14:52:00.000-08:002012-12-18T14:52:41.707-08:00Kindness in the cafeteria: Guest writer, Grace Dipaolo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Something that attracted me to SCAD was the general creative energy. To me, the school embodied the essence of originality, encouraging students to unite conviction and creativity in pursuit of change. For the most part, I found this idea shared by my peers, rendering us open-minded and appreciative of one another. While kindness is often born from such acceptance and respect, the truth is, no matter where you are, there are some who are inhibited by their own insecurities, fearful of straying from the group; and unfortunately, this diffidence prevents them from helping others in the name of kindness.</span><br />
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I was at dinner with a few friends. The newly dubbed “Hive” cafeteria is dynamic; students chatter and amble about, eating, socializing, and taking a break from homework. The food and ambiance at The Hive make it an ideal place to hang out (unlike its predecessor, “Scafe”).<br />On this particular night, The Hive was serving mussels. It was near 7:30, crammed with students hurrying to get seconds before they stopped serving food. Though students typically favor the security of a group, there are those few who prefer to sit alone. This minority is easy to spot in places like The Hive, where most kids travel in clusters.</div>
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He was heavier-set, with curly hair and glasses. He sat separate from the majority on a stool at the coffee bar, usually with homework or a book. I had noticed this boy before. Although we had never interacted, he appeared good-natured, occasionally looking up, as if The Hive provided alone time with the simultaneous comfort of being surrounded by others.</div>
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The boy’s plate was piled precariously with mussel shells. As I walked back towards my table after disposing of my own food, I watched the boy pick up his plate, and turn to grab his backpack. The motion caused his plate to tilt downwards and the mussels to fall, scattering on the floor. I naturally diverted from the path to my table towards the boy to help him collect the shells. It was then that I realized, not only had the surrounding students remained decisively in their seats, but they laughed. Laughed? I was momentarily perplexed. What was funny?</div>
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I reached the boy and knelt to help him gather the shells. By this point, his face was flushed and his hands shaky as he picked each shell off the floor. “Dude, I dropped a piece of pizza last week” (I had). “Don’t be embarrassed.” He looked up cautiously. “I’m not kidding,” I continued, “I literally picked up my plate and it slid to the floor. Mussels are so much easier to pick up. At least they don’t leave a mess like pizza does.” He smiled weakly. I smiled back.</div>
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I was aware of the snickering gazes the boy and I were attracting, but by the time we picked up all of the shells, which took all of 15 seconds, everyone had returned to their conversations, the incident already forgotten. “Thanks,” the boy muttered as he walked away, still embarrassed. It was then that my friends, who had missed the scene entirely, watched me stand up and asked what happened. When I finished telling them, one said, “I can’t believe no one else got up. But at least he walked away smiling. That’s what matters.”</div>
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This instance made me think about the concept of kindness. Every time we see someone in need, we are faced with a choice: to stop what we are doing and help, or to carry on with our business. But in the short span of time it takes to help, in those 15 seconds, we have the power to console someone and tell them it’s okay, or adversely, to hurt their feelings, and let them feel embarrassed. And to me, those 15 seconds are worth taking out of our day in order to make someone else’s.</div>
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Though my peers’ indifference to the boy who dropped his plate upset me, my conclusion is this: it is those small instances that define who we are and how we can affect others. Those seemingly insignificant moments where you offer help or good energy to someone else are capable of the biggest impact. They are the moments that define us, and test our compassion.</div>
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Robert F. Kennedy once said, “Few men are willing to brave the disapproval of their fellows, the censure of their colleagues, the wrath of their society. Moral courage is a rarer commodity than bravery in battle or great intelligence. Yet it is the one essential, vital quality for those who seek to change a world which yields most painfully to change.” I believe that the most effective way to fortify our own moral courage is through acts of kindness towards our fellow human beings. And should we all reach out to support each other, even in the smallest ways; we can provide the foundation for a brighter world to live in.</div>
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Thank you Grace! </div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-54476083289519460252012-12-17T09:59:00.000-08:002012-12-17T10:00:31.585-08:00In light of recent events. The Newtown shooting has had a paralyzingly sad affect on me as it has on many people across this nation who have been watching the story unfold, and citizens so closely affected mourn. My father knows me very well and knew I needed a reminder of the goodness that we are surrounded by everyday. Here is the link he sent me. I have been trying to keep this blog to stories I or people I know experience, but this is just too fantastically-happy-making to not share.<br />
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<a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/moments-that-restored-our-faith-in-humanity-this-y">http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/moments-that-restored-our-faith-in-humanity-this-y</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-1040689699671537942012-12-17T09:47:00.002-08:002012-12-17T09:47:56.497-08:00A kind bus-boy <br />
I was recently in New Jersey visiting my friend Kate from college. One day, Kate needed to go to work. So, I set up shop in a local Panera Bread and continued to work on internship applications. I was there for three hours and very slowly consumed my quiche and muffin, causing the bus-boy to visit my table frequently. After I finally had consumed it all, save for a few crumbs, the bus-boy tentatively approached my table and focused his attention on the leftover crumbs, he jokingly asked "Now, are you sure you don't want those?" I laughed and said "I'm so sorry, yes I am finally done." We exchanged smiles and he took my plate. I watched him as he went around to each customer giving them the same amount of attention and with a large genuine smile stretching across his face.<br />
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After completing his rounds he scanned the room in search of other tasks. His eyes landed on me again, and he returned to my table. "Would you like anything to drink?" he asked. Now, I don't know about you, but I've never experienced this from a bus-boy in a nation wide chain like Panera. I was pleasantly surprised, "Oh! Water would be great, thank you!" I responded, he smiled, "not a problem" he said, and quickly retrieved me some water. Along with the cup of water, he placed a piece of paper with a link to an online service survey about my experience at Panera that day. "No pressure" he said. "My names Marc, and if you find yourself with extra time to fill out a review survey, I'd greatly appreciate it." Most of the time I would loose this piece of paper later in the day and forget all about it. But, there was something different about Marc, this guy really deserved a good review. <br />
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He wasn't just a hum-drum bus-boy sulking around and occasionally clearing plates. No, Marc respected his job, and himself, and as a result, appeared to be having fun. He struck up conversations with those who were receptive and brought a smile to those whom he engaged. He was a pleasant presence. I know this may sound a bit over hyped, but I really do believe that Marc showed me that kindness can be just simply doing your job with a smile, and as a result he brought smiles to the customers he met. I immediately logged onto the site and wrote this about Marc. "Marc is an excellent employee of your company. His pleasant disposition and appropriate attentiveness to each customer is noteworthy. He definitely made me feel welcome and cared for. He is a very valuable employee."<br />
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Maybe Marc will get a promotion! Who knows, but either way his care and efforts to be a kind person did not go unnoticed.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-9665833079074460752012-11-16T13:35:00.000-08:002012-11-16T13:35:21.311-08:00Kindness in Peru: Guest writer, Sarah Guimond<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I’m currently studying abroad in Peru. Every Friday I volunteer at Fundades, an orphanage for children in Peru. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This Halloween my friend Benja and I made a surprise visit to the kids. These kids don’t have much and I had a feeling that the kids wouldn't go Trick-O-Treating so I went out, decorated some bags and filled them with candy, vampire teeth, and a masks. Benja and I showed up at night and shouted, “Tenemos una sorpresa para todos!” (We have a surprise for all of you!) The kids were soooo excited and thankful. It gave me such a good feeling inside to know I brought a little unexpected happiness into their day. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">These kids are by far some of the best people I have met in Peru! </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-33005960954353225582012-11-09T15:33:00.003-08:002012-11-09T15:34:19.381-08:00A kind comedian: Guest writer, Eric Vega<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">What do you say to someone who is suffering? You know that there must be a perfect combination of words that will lift the person’s spirits, but finding them is a struggle. For me, the desire to help someone in need is almost as poweful as my ability to say the dumbest things possible.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">These two traits came together stronger than ever a couple weeks ago. I was in my intro to film class a little early (because I’m responsible as hell), when the girl who usually sits next to me enters the room. As soon as I saw her, I knew she couldn’t be having a good day. Her high spirits are usually only contrasted by her short stature, but today was different. Her eyes were pink and swollen, her face expressionless. She sat next to me without a word.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">“This is awkward”, I thought stupidly. The room is silent, the hum of the desktops adding to the tension of the scene. It was pretty dramatic, really. I break the silence and politely ask her how she’s doing. She takes a deep breath. Uh oh. “Nothing, I’m fine.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">She’s a terrible liar, but I didn’t want to push the issue. A moment passed, then she turned to me. “Can I tell you something?” Her eyes vibrated, which is a thing I didn’t know that eyes could do. She went on to explain that she had received some terrible news earlier that day. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">“I have HPV.” Silence. “Whoa, that sucks.” Brilliant, Vega.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> That must have really put the situation in perspective for her. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">She’s on the verge of sobbing. I could hear noise being choked back in her throat. She told me that she was a first quarter transfer student and didn’t have any friends at SCAD. Her boyfriend back home had called her to tell her the news. Apparently he had contracted the virus before the two of them had started dating and just never knew about it. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">No more holding back. She was full on sobbing. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">At this point people start to enter the room. I didn’t know what to do. Here was this perfectly sweet girl in front of me who had just received life changing news. All I wanted to do was help, but it seemed hopeless. Maybe she has the right to be hopeless, to be angry. Anyone would be. Still, I had this overwhelming desire to make her smile again. So I did what I do best. I said something stupid.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">“On the scale of worst things that could happen to you, this is actually pretty low. It’s something that’s only going to come up in very specific situations. Hell, it’s basically an annoyance more than anything else. It’s not going kill you. It’s like your vagina has diabetes.” The full absurdity of that last statement hit me far too late. This girl is going to hate me. I couldn’t have insulted her condition more. Damn it, Vega.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">She laughed. Full out, uncontrollable laughter erupted from this tiny person. All traces of stress seemed to melt off her face. She told me that I was right, and that she felt a lot of comfort in knowing that this was a manageable condition. The rest of the class was filled with witty banter and not paying attention to the professor. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">It may sound corny, but I truly believe that laughter is the best medicine. Other than medicine, maybe.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-54680836132937603592012-11-09T13:54:00.003-08:002012-11-09T13:54:20.465-08:00A quick kind lift<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Most of the grocery stores where I live are a bajillion miles away aaaaand I don't have a car. So, I tend to do all of my shopping at the convenient store in my apartment complex. Oakwood Apartments is a maze of millions of identical buildings. I happen to live in the one farthest away from the convenient store. Womp, womp. This tends to make my grocery walk fairly miserable as I attempt to keep all of the bags in my arms, not let the eggs get cracked, or the ice cream melt. Last week I was puttering down the road, bogged down by my heavy bags, and this nice maintenance worker offered me a ride to my building! A bunch of his co-workers had passed me, but he chose to stop. His name was Angel, how fitting haha. Any who, his small choice made a world of a difference for me that afternoon. For once my ice cream didn't have to re-freeze, I didn't crack an egg, and my back wasn't covered in sweat. All thanks to an Angel in a golf cart. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-36661146724068502232012-10-16T15:01:00.003-07:002012-10-16T15:04:49.325-07:00Kate Kelly the kind creator <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Kate Kelly is an amazing woman studying Illustration at Savannah College of Art and Design, along with being one of my best friends and one of the kindest people I know.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Kate and I were talking about this blog and she was saying I really should have a card to give to the strangers I meet with the blogs URL on it. So that way they can check out their own stories and show their friends and family.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And guess what Kate did? :D</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Designed me an awesome card!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Here is her design!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">If you want to see more of Kate's work, which you should because she is AMAZING, check out this blog by Dan Herczak where her work is often published http://thepunchcartel.wordpress.com/kate-kelly/</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">Thank you Kate!</span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-8133739580593594302012-10-16T14:47:00.002-07:002012-10-16T14:49:11.773-07:00Kindness can bring hilarity. <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A few days ago in class my friend Ryan needed to present a powerpoint presentation and seeing as his PC does not cooperate with the projectors at NYFA very well I let Ryan borrow my mac so he could connect his powerpoint to the projector. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This trade in computers happened before we got to class. When Ryan connected my computer it worked! And up popped my desktop. Except, no one knew it was my computer, and up on the large projector, on what everyone thought to be Ryan's computer's desktop, was a photo of my sister. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">With-out thinking I just reacted to the fact that my sister was on such a large screen. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Oh hey, it's my sister!"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There was an incredibly awkward silence in the room that both Ryan and myself did not understand. Then my professor spoke. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Ryan, why do you have Melissa's sister as your background?..."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The miscommunication became clear and we explained that it was my computer. We laughed for the rest of the class thinking about how sketchy everyone thought Ryan was for a grand total of 60 seconds. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-32730681787575242252012-10-02T16:18:00.000-07:002012-10-02T16:18:30.522-07:00Kindness for Cats: Guest writer, Abby Wilpers. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thank you Abby!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMG8ydjoWD2AIFAplwdp3FIvzGTUulvVEhC1ioiKe9sLef2Jpyu-e-qEs_eu-YLU2loCEJR9pyV4u63fLG-1r48lYefnmc8yIRmjfACpkHHTPpg_TF8ZUOyMdGPynsQwCezJou5DGVCK-I/s1600/IMG_2670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMG8ydjoWD2AIFAplwdp3FIvzGTUulvVEhC1ioiKe9sLef2Jpyu-e-qEs_eu-YLU2loCEJR9pyV4u63fLG-1r48lYefnmc8yIRmjfACpkHHTPpg_TF8ZUOyMdGPynsQwCezJou5DGVCK-I/s640/IMG_2670.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Be Kind - Adopt an Animal! Be Careful - You Might End Up With Three"</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Hello, my name is Abby. And I am a cat lady.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Not the kind of cat lady who loves cats. Cats are ok I guess. I like dogs more. I like hampsters less. But I have three cats, so I guess I'm a cat lady.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">It hasn't been easy coming to terms with this. It's not really a desirable title. Cat lady. Sometimes I lie to people about how many cats I have. But I feel safe here at AKK, so I'll tell the story of how The Zoo - as Michael calls it - came to be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Our first cat, Harlem, was abandoned. She wore a sad little plastic collar with no tags and cried outside our window for an entire summer. She was living on the roof of an abandoned garage surrounded by barbed wire (gotta love Washington Heights). I'd toss food out to her, but as the weather started to get colder and no one claimed her I felt I had to do more. So one day I climbed through the barbed wire and onto the roof. Not the smartest. But I managed to coax her into a cat carrier with treats and water. </span><div>
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Drama, our second cat is from the ASPCA. He's a disaster. But a lovable one. His owner died and we adopted him in the hopes that Harlem would like a friend. We were wrong. </div>
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I found Georgie, our <i>third</i> cat, in the basement of our apartment building. She had snuck in through the alley and escaped all the other ferrel cats, who could have easily eaten her in one bite since she was a tiny kitten. She was dirty and starving and sitting on top of a mattress that was being thrown out (again, gotta love Washington Heights). With two cats already, I tried to walk away. But if there is any kind of kindness that is most important in this world, I think it's giving someone a home.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So I have three cats. And I love them. I promise I won't take in any more! But they make us laugh and they snuggle with us. So the kindness goes both ways .</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDchA3m2onqz13IL3BTEN9ist7kBNSbwlrdsDAnoz6-EvOwGqCJbkw1qyxSk_XgFd-UZS5AMpDbBFdpgAQl516tDPFsDx4NdhnKc2YutGT2A8X-0yh6zunwX7kwhVzKVYcpd-HwU7BNge/s1600/IMG_2493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDchA3m2onqz13IL3BTEN9ist7kBNSbwlrdsDAnoz6-EvOwGqCJbkw1qyxSk_XgFd-UZS5AMpDbBFdpgAQl516tDPFsDx4NdhnKc2YutGT2A8X-0yh6zunwX7kwhVzKVYcpd-HwU7BNge/s640/IMG_2493.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> That's<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Georgie right after I took her in. So dingy and grateful. And there's her today.</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMG8ydjoWD2AIFAplwdp3FIvzGTUulvVEhC1ioiKe9sLef2Jpyu-e-qEs_eu-YLU2loCEJR9pyV4u63fLG-1r48lYefnmc8yIRmjfACpkHHTPpg_TF8ZUOyMdGPynsQwCezJou5DGVCK-I/s1600/IMG_2670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMG8ydjoWD2AIFAplwdp3FIvzGTUulvVEhC1ioiKe9sLef2Jpyu-e-qEs_eu-YLU2loCEJR9pyV4u63fLG-1r48lYefnmc8yIRmjfACpkHHTPpg_TF8ZUOyMdGPynsQwCezJou5DGVCK-I/s640/IMG_2670.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-62161444717428366682012-09-26T17:56:00.000-07:002012-09-26T18:00:24.754-07:00A kind cabby. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">After getting my iPhone fixed at the Grove I was trying to catch a cab home to my apartment.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There was only one cab in sight. It pulled up and a flustered girl literally leaped out of the car. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">She turned around and with great vigor gave the cabby the middle finger. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I looked around, still no other cabs in site. I was hot, I was in a rush and I thought, 'what am I about to get myself into.'</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I hopped in. The starting fee instead of 2.85, was 6.95! I assumed this must have been the cause of dispute between the cabby and his past patron. I asked him if the meter was accurate, scared for what his response would be. He took a deep exhale and explained the whole situation.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The girl who had leaped from the cab, had only gotten in a few meters back. It was a Friday so the Grove was especially busy, traffic was remarkably dense on the main roads and in the parking lot of shopping center. There was no way to avoid the traffic, as there rarely is in LA. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">'Flustered girl' decided the traffic was the cabbies fault and verbally abused him about it from the moment she entered the cab, to the moment she left, claiming he was purposefully placing her in traffic to run the meter. The cabby, who was clearly still fairly new to the english language, politely asked the woman to exit the cab if she was going to continue her angry accusations when he is trying his best to get her to her destination as quickly as possible. He tried to assure her that when they depart the parking lot he would do everything in his power to avoid the traffic. The woman continued to pester and yell, the cabby could only take it so long, and asked her to leave. Leaving the fee at 6.85 when I entered the cab.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I listened to his story, relived the frustration with him and responded genuinely. When we reached my apartment the cabby and my conversation went like this.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cabby: "Thank you, it was so refreshing to go from such an unpleasant young person to such a nice, kind one. I'm sorry I talked so much"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Me: "No worries, I didn't mind at all. It sounded like it was a frustrating situation. Sometimes the best thing when you are frustrated is to simply have someone listen."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cabby: "Forget about the fare"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Me: "What?"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cabby: "Forget about the fare, you were so nice, you turned my day around, thats enough. Have a good day, and stay safe!"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Me: "Wow! Thank you!"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Before I left the car I managed to snap this picture of my kind cabby. Never underestimate the power of simply listening actively :)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fimkXXuDCuMPCpUaiNeN6JmPvXTOk1cfP1wkPTcGE8jiakEmYeRiKI-WiRH-AYLeQY3ZfdXyJ1YQfzI52U6Mk1TGZM33L_TNlF793I-Zf0ZN6ZtquLzrruY9eQLwt6UiKzJTDhFPemag/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fimkXXuDCuMPCpUaiNeN6JmPvXTOk1cfP1wkPTcGE8jiakEmYeRiKI-WiRH-AYLeQY3ZfdXyJ1YQfzI52U6Mk1TGZM33L_TNlF793I-Zf0ZN6ZtquLzrruY9eQLwt6UiKzJTDhFPemag/s640/IMG_0004.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-9706264615003298362012-09-26T17:09:00.000-07:002012-09-26T17:09:07.970-07:00A quick kind pic. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vWLS9VtHRZtqnQDWtAnan_g__s4q0oUo4Jw73ULoMvqgySWOqG9qSUZ14sgBD-aJGhOxd458QDEyw64cnjtpyyd_qX9qDayMeMHiM5nDsiJEwaA7dxjnv3W5sKKTAsCc59MOt-N8T6TR/s1600/IMG_0023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vWLS9VtHRZtqnQDWtAnan_g__s4q0oUo4Jw73ULoMvqgySWOqG9qSUZ14sgBD-aJGhOxd458QDEyw64cnjtpyyd_qX9qDayMeMHiM5nDsiJEwaA7dxjnv3W5sKKTAsCc59MOt-N8T6TR/s640/IMG_0023.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CsMJKLbP-jzLnCaFFbE7Wq6qxXwch08pkj6exqQ3-fO-Dpf7QLmOD1YXnCnCHSYVj9WQin2pWWu9OUIhYXiTymDVra3fT0r96A8vwXU2Jnq9Uwl41hs0Sg8Vw662dH5SMJOGGHCkl1LS/s1600/IMG_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CsMJKLbP-jzLnCaFFbE7Wq6qxXwch08pkj6exqQ3-fO-Dpf7QLmOD1YXnCnCHSYVj9WQin2pWWu9OUIhYXiTymDVra3fT0r96A8vwXU2Jnq9Uwl41hs0Sg8Vw662dH5SMJOGGHCkl1LS/s640/IMG_0030.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-32057699866567814932012-09-26T17:05:00.002-07:002012-09-26T18:01:38.362-07:00Kindness in the air.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-UIvQLXY4y86y20FLKLi1O6tiYUxHk99zmO6ZRAST8t93tz8mu7ryq7vDAv7E7eadafnoMwOp6rwWemzUK9o5GZow4Vg_CGD1BSzmNV4iXe4u2LztjvpZ2hZiMKSVQCKNMMxkJQ_jSsx/s1600/IMG_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-UIvQLXY4y86y20FLKLi1O6tiYUxHk99zmO6ZRAST8t93tz8mu7ryq7vDAv7E7eadafnoMwOp6rwWemzUK9o5GZow4Vg_CGD1BSzmNV4iXe4u2LztjvpZ2hZiMKSVQCKNMMxkJQ_jSsx/s640/IMG_0015.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I forgot all about this cute moment I saw on the airplane, mid flight on the way to LA.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We are about 2 and a half hours into the flight. In front of me is a sweet couple in their 20's.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The boyfriend has fallen asleep, his face plastered against the window drooling. His girlfriend is looking at him with delight and giggling at his silly appearance. You can tell her laughter comes from love. She stops giggling and ever so carefully attempts to place a pillow under his head without waking him :)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">She failed, he woke up, but was grinning from ear to ear when he realized what she was trying to do. He accepted the pillow placed it under his head and wrapped his arm around her.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-44380485287539910442012-09-26T16:53:00.000-07:002012-09-26T18:01:49.041-07:00Kindness in Ecuador: Guest writer, Sandra Brooks<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Thank you Sandra!</span></div>
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Dearest Missa,<br />
I am seeing your progress as your traverse along your camino de kindness. This is an absolutely wonderful idea, and I am so proud of you for putting your creativity to something so GOOD!</div>
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I hope life is good with you right now, I have a feeling it is <img alt="smile" class="emote_img" src="http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/images/blank.gif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/v2/ym/x/JeLhH4gSUuu.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 16px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":)" /></div>
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I also have a story pequeñita de kindness para ti!</div>
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So here in Ecuador, I've been trying to be aware of doing one random act of kindness every day, whether it's tipping my bus driver, giving up a seat on the bus for someone who needs it, sharing sweets as much as often etc.. <img alt="grin" class="emote_img" src="http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/images/blank.gif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/v2/ym/x/JeLhH4gSUuu.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: -48px 0px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 16px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":D" /></div>
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So here's one act of kindness that came really spontaneously and seemingly fatefully.</div>
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One day, just after finishing my classes and on my way home, I got off my first bus and realized I didn't have a small enough change to get onto my next bus. So I decided to walk up Rio Coca, to the row of flower shops along the street to get some change. I pick a bouquet of flowers of white and yellow carnations, one orange like the sun daisy, and I'll say some rich lavender/mauve roses.</div>
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I run to the next station in the nick of time and squish my way into the standing/surfing crowd in the moving bus. In front of me is a middle-aged woman, and two men looking like Miami thugs who just came out of a music video.</div>
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Now, while my flowers are being squished by said thugs, an old woman wearing a rich lavender/mauve blouse sits in the just opened seat in front of me. She smiles at me and says in Spanish, "Let me hold your flowers, so you can have balance." I easily handed them over and felt comforted by her kindness.<br />
Just as my stop was about to arise, I whispered to the old woman in rich lavender/mauve, "Your blouse is the same color as my roses! They match you beautifully, please have them." Then I jumped off the moving vehicle and walked home with my heart pounding and my face lit up, not because of the sweaty and pushy bus, but because of the happiness and satisfaction it gave me to imagine the old woman in rich lavender/mauve entering her home happier than she left it.</div>
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Let me know if that works for your Kindness blog,<br />
I love you to the sun and beyond,<br />
Sandra</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-29886925938962884672012-09-20T10:50:00.001-07:002012-09-26T17:09:24.137-07:00A quick kind pic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimC-qUrHEWB8Ya8TexVggDma49wUaW_hkTE8MwPIf1nKhmdWU7HSs_RCGjR6ShetIH0Wez9IVPWmcqzLUqlwddX_BUBuiHgor7L2iHOh3QbEIVo9OEq8u3qT_zw1MEXRL8CLGt-O9XThI/s1600/IMG_1935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimC-qUrHEWB8Ya8TexVggDma49wUaW_hkTE8MwPIf1nKhmdWU7HSs_RCGjR6ShetIH0Wez9IVPWmcqzLUqlwddX_BUBuiHgor7L2iHOh3QbEIVo9OEq8u3qT_zw1MEXRL8CLGt-O9XThI/s640/IMG_1935.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-13150045950228144382012-09-15T18:51:00.000-07:002012-09-26T16:46:07.557-07:00Gluten free love.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My Dad has recently discovered that he is Gluten intolerant, making day to day dining much more complicated than it used to be.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> But, never fear my considerate sister is here! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My sister Abby has been purchasing multiple Gluten free cook books so my dad can indulge in cakes, scones, bread, and so many more of his favorite treats.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> Instead of letting my dads new dietary needs become a hassle my sister saw it as a fun and rewarding challenge. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yay Abby!</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-50548270976127513412012-09-15T18:35:00.003-07:002012-09-15T18:35:50.119-07:00Margaret the one woman beach cleanup.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">Margaret was diagnosed with osteoporosis 3 years ago. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">She began walking on the beach to help her condition. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">As Margaret began to spend more time on the beach she also began to notice all of the man made garbage that took away from the beach's natural beauty. So, she started picking it up.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"> 3 years later Margaret has walked off her osteoporosis. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">However, she is still taking her daily walks for two reasons. One, she now loves to walk. And two, it gives he great satisfaction to know that on this large earth she is able to do her part in keeping this sliver of beach clean of garbage. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">Yay for Margaret! A wonderful woman.</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06220814292311216495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409790207803654027.post-57656578287018697222012-09-15T18:18:00.000-07:002012-09-15T18:26:28.449-07:00Teaching Lulu how to surf.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">After a day of surfing in rather shitty conditions I was coming in to relax on the beach, and I saw this little girl venturing confidentially out into the water, surf board barely balanced on her head.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">I later learned, she had just seen "blue crush" and was confident she had learned the skills needed to be a kick-butt surfer girl.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">I couldn't resist, she was so determined, I wanted to go chat with her, and maybe give her a few tips. I ran into whom I assumed was her mother, watching her daughter at the edge of the water. She was so excited I wanted to help her daughter, and after I worked with Lulu for the afternoon, I couldn't help but want to help her more.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"> Her passion was uncontainable and her curiosity to understand conditions, the lingo, and the skills it would take to become a "surfer" was inspiring. I fell in love with this little girls spirit and met her on the beach for lessons for the next three days.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">Helping Lulu was one of my favorite parts of this summer.</span></span><br />
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