Speak Kindly To Me

Kindness was a friend I once knew.

Gentleness was her mother. Goodness was her father. She was often mistaken for her older cousin, Love - which was understandable because growing up, the two were practically inseparable. Love was what Kindness aspired to become, but she also knew that she was much different from her. Love was sometimes was tough and blunt - she rarely hesitated to speak her mind. But Kindness had a more warm and graceful way of doing things. She often spoke calmly, and moved quietly - never aiming to bring attention to herself.

I came to know Kindness very well and share some fond memories with her. When I was younger, Kindness often sat in the kitchen with my mother while she prepared snacks for me and our friends who were busy playing outside. She liked watching my mother cook. When I missed the bus home one day after school, it was her who called my father up so he could come get me. One day, I saw her writing nice cards for my friends and family on their birthdays; she helped me remember the things I loved most about them because she said it brings them honor. I was much too young to understand what any of that meant at the time. 

She taught me that the best way to bring a smile to someone's face was to be considerate of their needs. Which was an interesting thing to hear, considering that her family was not well-off. Unlike her cousin Love's family, Kindness couldn't afford many of the flashy luxuries that Love sometimes had. But there was a time when she told me that it was probably good that God didn't allow their family to be wealthy, because they'd probably end up giving it all away anyway. She was good at that - giving herself away. Sometimes I think she might have given too much. But it never bothered her. Gifts and material things were of no value to her. She was the type who appreciated soft-spoken words more than anything and small acts of service that that brought healing to the soul. It was her joy to give these things, just as much as it brought her joy to receive them.

When I think about it, some of the dearest friends I have today I know because of Kindness. As a child who lived far away from where most of my friends were, Kindness often made plans with them to come see me - regardless of inconvenience. Kindness was the one who taught me that we don't find time to spend with people, instead we need to intentionally make time for it. As we grew older, she became more profound to me. She wasn't just showing her favor towards the people she was familiar with anymore. She wasn't even looking for accolades or affirmation. She was gracious and forgiving towards strangers - especially the ones who had no means to return the favor.

But something shifted as I grew older still, and I seemed to see less and less of my friend Kindness. Her mother had suddenly passed away by the time we graduated high school, which definitely took a toll on her spirit. And just when she thought she was finally healing, we caught wind of her cousin's rebelliousness. Suffice to say, Love was all over the place - both literally and figuratively. She was making headlines, but she seemed so different from the Love we once knew when we were younger. The Love who was once truthful, unapologetic, and who fought for justice got mixed with the wrong crowd, so she forgot who she truly was and this deeply saddened and confused Kindness. It was hard to get her out of the house and back into her groove since then.

At some point, I thought I could do without her. I had to move on, after all. I couldn't stay cooped up at home trying to nurse her wounds. But then I quickly saw how different the world was without her. Like the time I graduated from college, and I was met with people who worked hard to get ahead in life, even if it meant belittling other people. Gone was my friend who would often plead with people to get along and not be mean to one another. People became less about helping and honoring one another, and more of elevating themselves and adding to their list of accomplishments. Sometimes, it wasn't even about the accomplishments. Sometimes, it was just more satisfying to see someone else's misfortune - a case of Schadenfreude.

Like most childhood friendships, ours fizzled out once life started getting in the way. But there were times when I thought I caught a glimpse of Kindness: someone going completely out of their way to lend a helping hand to another, but I would quickly realize that it wasn't my old friend. Just a couple of impostors who seemed to have picked up on some of Kindness' attributes, but used those to take advantage of other people. Every now and then I hear about her though, so I haven't lost faith.

Kindness doesn't come over to my house anymore. My family has gotten busier and each one attends to their own concerns these days. But her memory stays with me. I am reminded of her in ways of words that bring peace and comfort. I am reminded of her when strangers offer help and hope. I haven't made any new friends since our falling out, which she'll probably be disappointed at, but every so often I meet a few great people who have been touched by her. At first I couldn't guess that she had anything to do with them - but then I see her qualities: honor, loyalty, faithfulness, selflessness - and couldn't help but wonder: "was she here too?" It would always be a pleasant surprise to find out that we shared a common friend. Even til now, she's still sending people my way. I'm now only beginning to realize the impact she's made, not just in my own life but in others' as well.

Perhaps you might run into my old friend one day. Please treat her well. Welcome her into your home and she will make it flourish. Bring her into your friendships and she will make them thrive. Bring her with you wherever you go, and she will make you blossom. Tell Kindness I miss her. I miss the way she brought fresh understanding into my life. I miss her company - the way she always knew just what to say at a particular moment. The way she honored someone in the presence of others to the point that they'd blush bright pink. The way she always listened, and devoted her time and attention to you just because those were her only luxuries. It was refreshing to have her around. I miss the way she'd make promises and actually keep them - which is something that happens so rarely these days.

Ask Kindness where she's been all this time, and then ask her to stay. Because she may not realize it, and neither does the rest of the world, but she's been gone a long time.

Tell her she is wanted.

No, tell Kindness she is needed.

(photo by Annie Spratt)