Today a little something happened that restored my faith in humanity, and the kindness of strangers. And while it was no mammoth act of extreme munificence worthy of making the six o’clock news, still it has stayed with me all day and made me smile.
Picture this if you will: it’s an hour before midday, and under blackened skies, I prepare to leave my local shopping centre. I’d been forced to make a mad mercy dash to replenish our supply of red apples to avoid my son having a meltdown if he discovered we were out of his choice of “crack”.
I cast a dubious glance at the unappealing scene beckoning beyond the exit doors. Sheets of rain are pounding into the uncovered car park; winds whistle and whip flimsy foliage to the ground while puddles morph into pools all over the bitumen. And here am I, umbrella-less and about to push myself, my overladen pram with my son, out into the uninviting elements.
I contemplated waiting it out, but it may have required me filling our mail redirection forms: the deluge had settled in, with no chance of easing any time soon. Then there was the fact my son was getting particular antsy, and I’d already promised him, in the last shop we’d been in, that the next stop was home. And if I didn’t make a speedy exit I’d be forced to part with my collection of $2 coins on the carousel ride he’d just spotted. Knowing the scene that awaited me if I’d given in to that demand, I decided to brave the elements instead.
With all the speed of Mark Webber (but alas none of the racing grace) I hurtled through the downpour to the car, silently cursing not only the Weather Gods, but the architects of my local shopping centre and their oversight at ample undercover parking.
My mind sprinted in unison with my feet, working out the best action plan that would involve the least amount of drenching to Master H. I’d decided to bundle him straight into the car first so at least one of us would be relatively dry and less likely to have the cold we’d just gotten over come back to haunt us.
What I didn’t plan on however, was the laws of gravity taking place, after I’d freed him from his watery seat.
Crash went my pram, toppling backwards into a puddle, my shopping and handbags still strapped to it, now that the counter weight that was my son had been removed. Cue: me letting loose with some choice cursing (of which Master H only mimicked one word, thankfully) and a mad scramble by me to restore the now sopping shopping.
And that is when my faith in the kindness of strangers was restored. From nowhere came running a lovely lady, with a large umbrella. She kindly stood over me as I righted the pram, stowed my shopping and handbag, as well wrestled with the fun task of putting down the pram, which of course on this occasion decided to get stuck. (I swear you need a university degree some days to dismantle them).
While I remembered to offer her a harried but heartfelt thanks, unfortunately during the entire drenching melee, I never asked for her name. But I do happen to know where she works, as she was wearing the distinctive Bank West uniform, and once this God-awful Noah’s Ark weather abates, I am going to make a trip to her branch and thank her properly.
I know many will say it was only a small act of chivalry but in my opinion still so worthy of a proper acknowledgement. Because not only did it make my life easier in those few frantic minutes, but the thought of such random kindness really has stayed with me all day. And in a day which we have largely spent cooped up in doors because of the dreadful weather, after another sleepless night, as well as the fact my son decided to accidentally smear poo on to the carpet and one of his books, while I assumed he was having his day-sleep, you can see while I am clinging to this ray of sunshine in my day.
So, Bateau Bay Bank West, this employee of yours is the best and you should be justifiably proud to have a such kind, caring employee. In these times of backlash against banks and consumer choice, this unprovoked act of charity is positive publicity money cannot buy. I’ll certainly never forget…