Tina Sinatra recounts a wonderful episode in the life of her illustrious father, Frank Sinatra. When she was a young girl, her father took her for an ice cream soda at Rumpelmayer’s, located off Central Park in New York City. While enjoying their treat, a mother and her daughter at the toy counter caught their attention. The child very much wanted an ornate Madame Alexander doll. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” said the mother, to her heartbroken child, “but no, it’s too expensive.”
As the two left the shop, Frank surreptitiously purchased the doll and hastened down the sidewalk. When he caught up with them, he tapped the little girl on the shoulder and presented the doll to her in its open box. “With eyes large as saucers,” Tina wrote, “She grabbed it.” Tina likened her dad to the Lone Ranger who would perform kind deeds and then disappear. The two dashed to the car and sped away, but not before Tina caught the bright expression on the little girl’s face and the mother’s stunned look of recognition: “Oh, my Goodness, that was Frank Sinatra!” It is because of acts like this that one saves his soul.
No doubt Frank Sinatra could easily afford to pay for the doll. But kindness requires more than money; it requires a heart. The best expressions of kindness come as a surprise. The unexpected beneficiaries, therefore, can take special delight in such acts.
The distinguished American novelist, Nathaniel Hawthorne, wrote about an unforgettable experience he had in a Liverpool Workhouse. A child followed him, whom Hawthorne described as a “wretched, pale, half-torpid little thing . . . a child that I should feel less inclined to fondle.” The child, however, took to the great novelist, followed him around and expressed perfect confidence that Hawthorne would pick him up and make much of him. Hawthorne records the incident: “It was as if God had promised the child this favor on my behalf, and that I must needs fulfill the contract.” He picked up the child and held it. “I should never have forgiven myself if I had repelled its advances,” he confessed.
Hawthorne’s daughter, Rose, who founded a number of hospitals dedicated to treating indigent cancer patients, said of this incident that when her father “took up the loathsome child and caressed it as tenderly as if he had been its father, he effected more than he dreamed of toward his final salvation.” God is attentive to acts of kindness and accords them considerable weight in judging the beauty of his soul.
I once wrote an open letter to the celebrated pianist, Vladimir Ashkenazy, which Decca Records forwarded to him. The day came when I received a surprise package from Switzerland. It was from Ashkenazy who was “touched” by my letter and enclosed two tapes consisting of his recordings of the Preludes, Waltzes, and Scherzi of Frederic Chopin. Here is an act of kindness made even kinder because it was expressed to a stranger across the ocean. Kindness can be unforgettable. It can also be unmerited. It is supererogatory, above and beyond the call of duty.
Kindness can triumph over anger. It is easy to be angry, but noble to be kind. St. Paul advises us to “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4:31). The Roman Emperor and philosopher, Marcus Aurelius, understood the personal as well as the social benefits of kindness. “Ask thyself daily,” he wrote, “to how many ill-minded persons thou has shown a kind disposition.” Johann von Goethe viewed kindness as the “golden chain by which society is bound together.”
Kindness can also triumph over indifference. It is easy to do nothing. Our heart, however, prompts us to do something. Acts of kindness are rooted in the heart. The person of kindness sees others, like the Good Samaritan, as so many neighbors. Kindness can be expressed in a word, a smile, a handshake, or an act. “The milk of human kindness,” to cite Shakespeare, indicates the naturalness of kindness. It flows from one person to another like a mother’s milk feeds her child. The very word, “kindness,” is derived from the Old English gecynde meaning “natural.” We have all been endowed with the equipment to be kind.
The Reverend Lawrence G. Lovasik, offers The Hidden Power of Kindness as a practical Handbook “for souls who dare to transform the world one deed at a time.” To get us started, he lists the “dos” and “don’ts” of kindness:
We should speak kindly of someone at least once a day; we should think kindly about someone at least once a day; and we should act kindly to someone at least once a day. On the other hand, we should not speak unkindly of anyone; we should not speak unkindly to anyone; and we should not act unkindly to anyone.
Kindness is timely. We may be a trifle too late in expressing an act of kindness. We must strike the moment an opportunity arises. Let us not regret lost opportunities.
Kindness leads to more kindness even if the movement is slow. In the words of the great humanitarian, Albert Swietzer, “Constant kindness can accomplish much. As the sun makes ice melt, kindness causes misunderstanding, mistrust and hostility to evaporate.”
The cost of kindness is little; its rewards are very large.
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash
