But you’ve got to try a little kindness

You show a little kindness

But you shine your light for everyone to see

But if you try a little kindness

Then you’ll overlook the blindness

Of the narrow minded people

On the narrow minded street

Those Lyrics from a song by Glen Campbell played over and over through my mind on Labor Day weekend. We were down visiting the Iowegians, meaning my son, his wife and our lovely grandchildren.

I was not thinking about kindness on the way down to Ankeny on Interstate 35. As the person I sometimes let drive my van, weaved in and out of the traffic, I counted cell phone users. I couldn’t believe it; almost everyone we passed was on their cell phone as they were driving.

I was not thinking about kindness as a semi decided to put on his brakes and move into our lane without signaling, which had the person I sometimes let drive slamming on the brakes. We barely missed seeing the underside of the semi. I couldn’t check to see if the semi driver was on his cell phone because I didn’t see the cab, only my life flashing before my eyes.

And then, of course, you have to remember where we were headed — Iowa. Yes, kindness was far from my mind. The evening found us at the Iowa Cubs game with our family. We had excellent seats right behind the Albuquerque Isotopes dugout. Don’t feel bad if you don‘t know who they are, I didn’t either.

During the game the team shot T-shirts out of a cannon. The gentleman behind us caught one and immediately gave it to my granddaughter, putting a huge smile on her face. My 4-year-old grandson had been asking his dad for a Cubs bat, so I decided to visit the gift shop and pick one up for him. As I was standing in line to pay for the bat, someone leaned over my shoulder and gave me a ticket for a free bat. He walked out before I could even turn around and thank him. I was impressed with those random acts of kindness that made my grandchildren’s evening better.

However, later in the evening my grandson was sitting on my lap. He looked across the aisle at the gentleman sitting there. My grandson pointed at the man and said, “Grandma, look at that man. Look at the mess he’s made.”

If you knew my grandson you would know that this was spoken in a very loud voice. At that point, I wondered how low I could sink in my seat and become invisible. The gentleman looked at my grandson and said in a gruff voice “Are you talking to me, young man?”

My grandson answered “Yes, yes I am.” At that point I wondered how fast I could run to save my grandson from this man’s ire.

But this man started laughing and said to my grandson. “You are right. I have made a mess.”

And then the man picked up a game ball and handed it to my grandson. “You look like you need a ball to go with that bat.”

It seemed to be a night of Iowa kindness. Those little acts of kindness made a difference not because of the gifts the gentlemen gave us but because of their thoughtfulness.

The next day Iowa kindness continued. I felt I was in a bubble. My granddaughter and I always have one-on-one time when I visit. We have a smoothie date. I love coffeehouses and they have a great one in Ankeny that has great smoothies.

My granddaughter and I ordered our smoothies and the lady behind the counter said to my granddaughter, “You look like you need a cookie. Would you like a free cookie?”

I couldn’t believe it was happening again, kindness. As we sat and slurped our smoothies I mentioned to the lady that I could not make smoothies like this coffeehouse. She asked me if I wanted to learn the secret. She gave me a smoothie lesson and then she gave us a free smoothie. It was such a great weekend because of the random acts of kindness that were shown to us by these strangers.

The random acts of kindness shown to us made a difference in what I did that weekend. Because those kindnesses touched my life I wanted to be kinder to people. I let someone go ahead of me at the store. I had a great conversation with a young man in an electronics store. He had just got back from visiting his girlfriend in Minnesota, and he seemed to want to tell me about it. Maybe had I not experienced Iowa kindness I might not have taken the time to listen to the young man? I met so many nice people that weekend and I have to think it was because I was smiling.

I don’t take a lot of time for random acts of kindness. I need to. It seems I get so caught up in my life and so busy that sometimes even a smile seems like too much of an effort let alone doing something extra and nice for someone. But I am going to try harder. A random act of kindness changed my life. It made a difference.

I wonder what would happen if every newspaper and television station reported random acts of kindness the way they report murders and rapes and crimes. Would we read them or would we skip on to juicier stories? I suspect random acts of kindness may be hard to report as those people committing the act of kindness like to keep it low-key. Perhaps that is why we have more vocalization of the hard-hitting topics, people who seem to have the loudest voice are the ones heard.

It would be nice to have a daily or weekly story in newspapers that would consist of reports of random acts of kindness that people have experienced. People would e-mail the paper with kindnesses that were shown to them. Perhaps reading about them would make us want to perform more random acts of kindness. It would have to make a difference because we would be reminded that there are good, kind people everywhere.

It only takes a spark to keep a kindness going. And soon all those around will warm up in its glowing. Once you’ve experienced it, you spread the love to everyone. You want to pass it on.

I admit I changed the words a little from the song “Pass It On” by Kurt Kaiser. Keep the kindnesses going. Pass it on.

Wells resident Julie Seedorf’s column appears every Monday. Send e-mail to her at thecolumn@bevcomm.net or visit her blog at www.justalittlefluff.blogspot.com.