Sometimes it only takes one Act of Random Kindness to make the sun shine all day.
Today, we were the recipients of just such
an ARK from a most unexpected source. Picture the situation. Mr B and I are at the bus stop, waiting for the Pulse bus, our precious free bus passes clutched in our hot little hands. There is another person waiting, we are pleased to see, because this probably
means that a bus is due. The Pulse is supposed to come along every ten minutes which is, I am sure you are thinking, an excellent service. Only sometimes two, or even three buses come along together – and you are lost if you happen to miss all three
(not that you’d know, I suppose, if you weren’t at the bus stop. And if you were at the bus stop, why you’d get on the first bus that came along, wouldn’t you, so you wouldn’t know about the two buses chugging along behind.
Oh, please, I must stop this, I have allowed myself to be waylaid by inconsequential musings.) You might, indeed, have to wait up to half an hour for the next one.
Unfortunately we suddenly realised that we had forgotten something and would have to go home again before we could catch the bus to town. We only live just round the corner from the bus stop so there we were, hot-footing it home, only to see the
Pulse bus heading for the bus stop. We groaned and exchanged a few words about the Unfairness of Life but comforted ourselves with the knowledge that we would hopefully (fingers crossed) be able to catch the next one in ten minutes time.
Five minutes later and we are making our way back to the bus stop when, yes, you’ve guessed it, there was the next bus negotiating the roundabout ahead of us and we are a good
40 yards away. We wave frantically, but with little hope, because everyone knows that the bus drivers never, but never, stop for anyone these days.
They used to,
in the Good Old Days. I remember I had to catch a bus every day to my first job which was in a bank. It came along at five minutes past eight every day and if I happened not to be at the bus stop waiting all ready to board, the bus driver and conductor
(yes, there were two to a bus in those days) would hold the bus for me. Can you believe it?
Back to today and, hey, instead of accelerating away from our
despairing figures, the bus is slowing down. It’s stopping! We do our best to break into what might be called a run. Or, at least, a fast, shuffling mixture of walk and run. The bus driver beams at us and accepts our breathless thanks with equanimity.
“I was feeling a bit lonely,” he says, gesturing to all the empty seats behind him. We are, indeed, the only passengers.
Well, he may not know it but
his Act of Random Kindness has made my day. We have smiles on our faces, Mr B and I. Mr B even consents to accompany me into The Wool Bar where I need to buy a pattern and wool for my next Knitting Project. This isn’t the shop that I
have told you about before, the one which Mr B hates with a Deadly Hatred and refuses to set foot inside. The Wool Bar is a much smaller shop but run by a shop keeper who is clever enough to know how to keep a man happy. While I am blissfully leafing through
the pattern books, she fetches Mr B a wooden chair (complete with a natty and colourful knitted cushion on the seat), so that he can wait in comfort.
another Act of Random Kindness. Mr B rests his weary legs and starts chatting about the attractions of Tenerife, joining in the conversation of three busy knitters sitting round a table in the shop window, the better to advertise the charms of The
Wool Bar. The smile on my face just gets wider and wider. Much wider, indeed, and I will look like a shark which will not be a Good Look, all things considered.
of all, today I reached my target figure of 100,000 hits on this website since I set it up, just over eleven months ago. My thanks to every single person who, in an Act of Random Kindness, has clicked on www.retiringinstyle.net
over that time. Thanks to those who read the Daily Blog (especially the “regulars”) and to those who enjoy the book reviews, or my News & Views, or the “blast from the past” which is The Way We Were.
Not to mention my appreciation of everyone who has made a Chocolate Mug Cake as a result of visiting my Cook Book page. It’s not exactly Nigella but everyone who has tried out the recipe
now knows the meaning of those famous words of scripture: “My cup runneth over.”