I woke up to the gentle but firm prodding of my Father. He put his forefinger on his lips, meaning I should be silent. He listened, I paid attention too. Then I heard the noise. There was someone else in the house. Who could it be? My other and my brother had travelled out of the city the other day. So it was just I and father in the house. I chose to sleep in father’s room because I was not used to sleeping alone.
We listened. There goes the noise again. We had nothing to arm ourselves with in the bedroom, save for a tiny staff. Father picked it up and told me to stay back inside. A lot of thought started to run trough my heads. What if the intruder was armed? What if he hurts father? I put my ear to the door to listen, I was just 12 years old.
What I found to be strange about the noise was that, I kept on hearing it from the kitchen region. I could even hear pots being opened! Father must have figured that out too. Right on the living room’s table are laptops and iPads. What was an intruder finding in the kitchen? I heard a loud thud, then my father’s voice.
“Mr Smith!”
Mr Smith was our neighbor. What was he thinking? I opened the door and saw my father pointing the sharp touch at his face. He immediately went on his knees and started sobbing. He actually though no one was in the house. He though we all traveled together with mother the previous day.
“I never knew you to be this kind of person. I am so disappointed!” Father thundered.
He went on to narrate how he thought the house was empty and just wanted some food he could cook for his 2 year old son. He, his wife and the kid had not eaten anything tangible in 3 days. He explained he had an accident with his commercial tricycle and he had not been able to work for a week now. His poor boy was growing lean, he only wanted some food for his family.
“Then you could have explained to me what you were going through. I would ask how you were every morning and you would reply fine. Couldn’t you just approach me?” Father retorted.
”I’m sorry sir”. That was all he could say.
Dad asked him to sit down for some minutes in the living room. He warmed up the remaining rice we ate that night and packaged some for Mr Smith.
“Go and feed your boy first. We will talk in the morning.” By now, Mr smith was already sobbing hard. He left in deep shame.
The next morning, Father asked him the cost of repairing his tricycle and settled the bill. He also gave him what he could live on till he could work again.
This act by my father did not surprise me actually. I have known him to be a very kind man. Most people in that same situation would have handled it differently. Mr Smith would mostly spend some days behind bars… and for good reason.
That particular act of kindness by my father taught me that true kindness is helping out people that don’t deserve it. When people wrong us, we are in a way justified to pay them back in their own coin. But when we choose to be nice to them, that is true kindness.
Every seemingly wrong action does not require judgement and punishment. The best response might just be kindness.
I learnt from my father that “an eye for an eye truly makes the world blind.”
This is my entry into India United’s ‘act of kindness’ contest. You can participate here