A few days ago, a dear friend tripped, and fell down, right on her pretty face. It happened in a parking garage on the East Coast. She sat stunned and bleeding as a man drove into the parking place next to her. He got out of his car, took one look at her, slammed the car door shut and walked away.  I guess he had already used up his niceness.

I conscientiously try to do at least one kind thing a day.  Once a day is enough when you are retired. However, being a good person shouldn’t be too difficult, but sometimes it does have its limitations.  For instance, when hiking in the mountains I often see someone taking a photo of a friend or a group of friends. I usually stop and ask, “Would you like to be in the picture?” Usually, people are delighted and hand me their camera or phone.

One morning, I spied a woman taking a photograph of a group of people, and asked her if she’d like to be in the picture. She said, “Oh, Yes. Thank You!” and handed me the camera. I noticed a young man standing at the side of the group and said, “Get into the picture!”  Whereupon he replied, “I don’t know those people.” I said, “That’s Okay. Get in anyway!”—and he did. Good Lord! Being nice can be so hard!

Another time when I was hiking, I climbed to the tip-top of a mountain where I could enjoy the spectacular view. When I got there, I noticed a little Chinese lady practicing Tai Chi. Knowing only one greeting in Chinese (which I can’t spell) I said, “KneeHow.” She was so excited that she stopped exercising  and began to babble to me in Chinese. She then happily followed me all the way back to the parking lot and kept right on chatting.  I kept smiling and nodding my head. I agreed with everything she said, and from the smile on her face, I knew she thought I was an excellent listener.

On my frequent hikes in the mountains, I have dispensed many bandaids for the fallen, but have never had to treat snakebite. I did, however, come across a man sitting on a boulder at the top of a steep hill. He was breathing heavily and his face was white as snow (which I don’t often see in Tucson, Arizona.) I gave him my water bottle and asked if I should call 911. “No!” he said and “Please don’t call my wife!” Fat chance of that since I didn’t know his wife. It turned out that this successful paragon of industry was recovering from a heart attack, and his doctor had ordered him not to go hiking yet. “But,” the man protested to me, “ I have been hiking these mountains since I was a teenager!” I said, “Mister, You aren’t a teenager anymore.”I walked him to his car and scolded him all the way down. I said, “The next time I catch you disobeying you doctor, I’ll call your wife for sure!” Never saw him again.

I won’t tell you about the time my neighbor wanted to show me his girlfriend’s dog. Trying to be nice, I said. “Sure”—even though I didn’t like his girlfriend. I won’t tell you that the mutt ran out of the house and left me with his toothmarks and 6 stitches on my left leg.

However, I will end this tale of goodness with the story of two people I met in the dining room  of an elegant cruise ship. The 80-year-old man was dressed in a designer tuxedo, and his 25-year-old fiancé wore a silver shimmering number. As we were to be seated, she invited me to sit with them. Being a kind person, I could not in good conscience refuse her heartfelt  invitation. Her heartthrob didn’t say much as he quaffed his third martini (stirred not shaken—the drink not the guy) as she regaled me with tales of his private island estate, his racing horses, his airplane and his yacht, and she nearly blinded me with her 5-year-old diamond engagement ring.

He wasn’t much to look at and only grunted once in a while, but I figured she was attracted to him for one reason or another.  My Mother used to say, “Every pot has a cover.” I thought it strange that he ordered mousse ( a fluffy cousin of pudding)   as a main course, but then I discovered  that with all of his wealth, he was not a classy guy—as he put his dentures on the table. Certainly, he could have put them on a plate!

By the way, My friend, the fallen woman, is just fine.  A kind man found her, called 911 and stayed with her until help arrived.

Yes, there are some good people in this world—better than me, but I will keep on trying.

Esther Blumenfeld