I rustled through the trash can looking for the plastic bag that Gaby put in the bin after my recent 4.8-mile walk with our children. It wasn’t that the plastic bag was anything special, except for being the means by which we carried $18.35 worth of carry-out ice cream back to our house. Upon seeing the bag, I was quick to move the other waste that had already accumulated on top of it. I opened the now spoiled bag and saw what I was looking for at the very bottom. This 4” long and 5” wide multicolored piece of paper would not have meant so much to me a month ago.
I pulled the paper out of the bag and immediately started to cry.
I tried to hide my tears at first; we were, after all, in the middle of our Friday evening dinner. I went to my bedroom and tried to wipe away the tears quickly and control the myself so that I would not worry Gaby and the children. However, the emotion ultimately became overwhelming as I was serving ice cream for dessert. I could not get through scooping the ice cream as my crying turned into weeping.
I am not a crier.
But that little piece of paper was so timely and brought me back to reality like nothing else may have been able to do at that particular moment.
But that little piece of paper was so timely and brought me back to reality like nothing else may have been able to do at that particular moment.
Most families with young children have gone through some pretty serious life changes over the past month as a result of the COVID-19 outbreak. Relatively speaking, our family’s changes have not been that significant. We already homeschooled our nine-year-old son. Our three-year-old daughter’s schedule has not changed one bit. Most of the professorial and administrative work I would do from my office so as not to be distracted has now turned into work from my home office (the dining room table) with welcomed distractions.
But that wasn’t the case a couple of days ago.
A couple of days ago we had just about had it. Homeschooling had hit a standstill and as we were trying to work through the rebellion and un-motivated-ness of one child while the other child had a hot meltdown, leaving the house looking like a complete disaster as I feebly strived to maintain the façade of a relaxed father carrying out my work as a productive professor.
This scenario led multiple near explosions in our normally calm household.
At about 5:30pm, I made an executive decision to halt the homeschooling (don’t judge us; our children wake up at ~10am on most mornings), to leave the house in its unordered state, with sharp Legos hidden in the depths of our rug, and take our children out for a really long walk. The goal was for everyone to hit the “reset” button while thinking about something else than the Corona virus.
Yet as soon as we left the house, we could not help but to see the visible effects of the near invisible virus. There were a surprising amount of people walking around in the neighborhoods adjacent to our apartment complex, all keeping adequate social distances. I recognize the absolute necessity to keep safe distances from others in order “flatten the curve” of this terrible pandemic. However on this tough day, I could not emotionally take people intentionally staying away from me and my family. Regardless of the reason, people can only observe others intentionally avoiding them by jumping into the road while jogging, or crossing to the other side of the street during an afternoon stroll (all while not making any eye contact) before it starts feeling personal.
The “card” written on what appears to be wrapping paper.
This time around, things started to feel personal. This time around, I started to wonder if there was something actually wrong with us. This time around, I felt as if I had the infamous “A” branded on my chest or as if I was sick during biblical times shouting, “unclean, unclean.” After the day we had at home, I needed normalcy and it was nowhere to be found. I had reached a personal breaking point.
About three miles into our walk, we ended up at a local ice cream shop. Entering into this normally packed famous locale was also quite weird as only two costumers were able to enter at once. We purchased a couple of pints totaling $18.35 and began walking home with our ice cream in a plastic bag, completely intending to be comforted by our comfort food.
As we walked through a relatively affluent neighborhood on our way home, we saw a little girl and what appeared to be her mother in the distance. We were on the same side of the road and, to be honest, I considered taking my family to the other side of the street, so as not to make them feel uncomfortable. However, since we were walking in the same direction, I decided to continue our course and remain on the same side of the road.
I questioned that decision once the little girl and her mother stopped and began looking back at us. We walked slowly as we approached them and, as we began passing them, started walking into the middle of the street so as to keep a safe distance—almost, oddly enough, as if we were concerned about them assaulting us. The little girl, who was, perhaps 7-years old, repeated the cycle of staring at us, looking to and speaking her mother, and then staring at us once again, several times prior to her mother stepping toward us and awkwardly saying:
“Ahh, hi…”
She made eye contact with me.
“We, ahh…we made some cards and…and she thought that, well…maybe you would like one of them…uhh, if that is okay with you.”
The little girl who was still hugging her mother’s leg, made eye contact with us as well. The woman proceeded to step into my six-foot bubble by reaching out her hand and offering me the 4” by 5” piece of paper that looked as if it had been cut out of colorful wrapping paper—the edges of the paper were not cut in straight lines.
The note from our new friend including a heart, ice cream cone, and an unintelligible message.
I opened the “card” immediately and there were three objects written inside in black ink; a heart, an ice cream cone, and an unintelligibly written message. These three things all seemed to represent what our new friend was trying to accomplish, as she handed out cards in the neighborhood. She was surely trying to send an encouraging message to those with whom she would interact, regardless of whether should could fully express that in writing in the card, or in audible words as she hugged her mother’s leg. She drew a heart because she wanted to let those who she encountered know that she loved them. Her love proceeded from her heart and was manifest in her concern for the conditions of the hearts of others. Lastly, she wanted to make people happy and so she drew an ice cream cone—a treat that is guaranteed to make the day of almost all children, as well as adults.
As we reflected, we quickly comprehended what this little girl was doing to be so much more than just handing out small pieces of paper. She decided in her own heart to use her own time to serve other people who might me struggling, discouraged, or having bad days as a result of the current pandemic. So, she took out her own art supplies and sat down to write individual notes to people that she did not know. She then left her house, to hand these cards out to (at least some) complete strangers. As we were leaving the neighborhood, we observed her and her mother going to other houses, knocking on doors and handing cards to others.
During a season in which all of us are rightly concerned about protecting ourselves and our loved ones, this girl took the initiative to leave her comfortable, personal space and help others walk through this trying time. By actively serving others, our new friend was fighting against the selfishness and the egocentrism that we are all inclined to default into during trying times. By thinking about others that might be worse off than her, our little friend was fighting against being overwhelmed with the personal effects and consequences of this terrible situation.
As she made those cards, our friend was being an example to me, our children, our family, and society in general as to how to healthily walk through difficult times without falling into despair.
As we sat down for dinner that night, I could not get this experience out of my mind. It evidently impacted my son as well, who brought it up as we started eating the $18.35 ice cream that was pulled out of the bag that was now in the trash bin.
“Remember the girl, dad?” he said, as I was scooping the ice cream.
“You have to write about her,” he added.
I started to choke up. I ran to the trash can, found the “card,” and started to cry. I could not even finish scooping the ice cream.
We may never see this little girl or her mother ever again. Yet, we were so moved by her kindness that we cannot let a wave in the street be the last word from us.
So, dear friends if you ever come across this blog, please accept this genuine note of gratitude from the Hernández family:
Dear New Friends,
The Hernández family would like to say, “Thank you!”
Thank you for leaving your house during a pandemic with the intent of cheering other people up.
Thank you for being an example of service to us; an example that we frequently forget as we endeavor to protect ourselves and our family.
Thank you for approaching us, even though we were speaking another language and looked differently than you.
Thank you for reminding us through your drawing of the ice cream cone that service is sweeter than selfishness.
Thank you for drawing the heart and reminding us that love is a verb. You showed us love!
Thank you for your unintelligible writing, which serves as a reminder that all people at all different academic levels and ages can care for their neighbor.
And “Mom,” thank you for permitting your child to do this despite the very real risks associated with leaving home and interacting with strangers these days. Thank you for encouraging your child toward cautious, but selfless service. It is difficult to put into words how much this impacted our family’s outlook on life during this pandemic.
We love you too!
The Hernández Family
There are weird times and most people are not acting normal. For some people, it brings out the best in them. I am so grateful that this girl was being herself during this time and by doing so, the best in her emerged. She did this at just the right time for me and my family—right at the point where we were falling prey to the effects of our current peculiar situation.
We never know who we will impact through small acts of kindness. This is not just a trite adage. It is true.