“What the world needs now is love, sweet love.” (Hal David/ Burt Bacharach, 1965.)
Yesterday, my own New Year’s Eve celebration included a drive down to Highland Park, Illinois to see a truly incredible film called “The Impossible,” starring Ewan McGregor and Naomi Watts. It’s based on the astonishing true story of Maria Belon and her family, and how they miraculously survived the horrific 2004 tsunami which killed more than 200,000 people. I must admit that I was mostly interested in seeing what the killer wave (more than 90 feet tall) would look like, but as amazing as that is, what makes the film truly remarkable is its portrayal of the courage and humanity both of the Belon family members and of the many people who extend a hand of kindness to them in the midst of this nightmare. Such travails certainly can bring out the very worst in some people – but in others it evokes grace and generosity that is positively luminous. One of my favorite such moments is when the father is sitting with some other survivors as they swap stories of the horror they have just endured- as well as the ongoing horror of not knowing the final fate of their missing loved ones. As Ewan McGregor’s character is telling the others of what he and his family have experienced and that he has yet to communicate with anyone back home, one of the men in the circle hands his own cellphone to him- telling him that he’s trying to save what’s left of the battery, but that he’s still welcome to make a call home. McGregor’s character gratefully accepts the phone and does so, but as he speaks with his mother-in-law, he begins to cry uncontrollably and finally has to break off the call in mid-phrase. There is an awkward silence for a few moments until the guy hands the phone right back to Mr. Belon, saying “you can’t leave her hanging like that. Call her back.” It’s a gesture of selfless kindness and generosity, and it makes all the difference in the world. The film is full of moments like that- but not in a saccharine sweet sort of way. It’s just a moving story of people reaching deep into themselves for courage and kindness that they probably had no idea was theirs to give. And is it kindness – even in relatively small gestures – that creates beauty in the midst of incredible suffering and desolation. That’s the memorable message of this film, and I hope that a lot of people will see it and be as inspired as I was.
I also was reminded of the power of kindness in something that happened closer to home and on a much more intimate scale- but it made in equally powerful impression on me. I hope my best friend Marshall and his folks won’t mind me sharing a story about something that happened when Kathy and I met Marshall and his parents for supper at one of our favorite restaurants: Popeye’s in Lake Michigan. (And I don’t mean the fried chicken chain. This is a stand alone rotisserie restaurant, a place where we have had many wonderful meals over the years.) We were having a perfectly lovely time together when Marshall’s mom suffered a scary choking episode. We were so impressed, first of all, by Marshall’s gentleness with his mom in keeping her calm – by a couple of nearby customers who offered to help – by the two waitresses who hovered close by and were genuinely concerned – by the manager of the restaurant who dropped everything to offer assistance – by the friendly policeman and paramedic who were there in an instant and worked with assurance and skill to make sure she was okay and to ascertain exactly what had happened.
But what touched us even more is what happened once Mrs. Anderson was feeling better and we were getting ready to take her to the ER for a precautionary examination. Kathy quietly suggested that I take care of the bill, so the Andersons could leave more quickly and easily. But when I went over to the waitress’s station, I was told that the bill was already taken care of – and no sooner had I started to protest than the manager stepped in to reiterate – nicely but firmly – that the restaurant was going to cover the bill, case closed. I don’t mind admitting that I started to cry right then and there, just so touched and overcome by such a kind and surprising gesture. By the way, Kathy left a generous tip on the table and a note saying “Thank you for your kindness.” And you better believe that we will be making a point of going back to Popeye’s the first chance we get. But more importantly, I think we will be a bit more mindful of what a difference we might be able to make in someone else’s life if we take a moment to extend a bit of kindness, especially when someone else is in trouble. Because we were on the receiving end of some extraordinary kindness.
May this coming year for you be filled with kindness . . . both received and given.
pictured above: My two nephews, Kaj and Henry, in a photo from many years ago.