Nodding On

“No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted.” ~ Aesop, ancient Greek storyteller (620-564 BC)

He was hard to miss, even though I was staring across four lanes of traffic. I had noticed the front door open. It was a strange house with orange trim, shutters and doors. Then he appeared.

His head seemed hairless, but his eyebrows were dark. The draping garment he wore was the same orange color as the house trim and there were sandals on his feet.

I was standing on the doorstep of the Kappa Alpha Psi fraternity house at 1846 Crenshaw Boulevard in Los Angeles, just north of Washington Boulevard. This alumni chapter had offered the use of their facilities for a retreat for our graduating eighth grade class. The Principal and I were greeting students as they arrived.

Across the four lanes which comprised Crenshaw Boulevard was the Vijaya Dharma Buddhist Vihara. The man in orange was most certainly a Buddhist monk and, by the way he comported himself and perused the grounds, I guessed he was probably the “Head Monk.”

I watched with distracted interest as a Hispanic gardener worked feverishly with a gas-powered trimmer along the frontage of the property. The monk stood quietly nearby until the gardener noticed him. With small abbreviated gestures and movements of his head the Monk seemed to instruct the gardener as to what he wanted done. The gardener responded with his own animated nod.

The Monk started to turn back toward the house when he paused. Whether he felt the weight of my eyes upon him or just casually glanced across the street, I will never know.

Regardless, our eyes met for only an instant. Instinctively I brought my heels together, straightened my posture, steepled my fingers beneath my chin, and nodded, closing my eyes. When my head was again upright and my eyes open, I paused.

A brief smile seemed to glimmer across the face of the Monk. He too steepled his fingers, and nodded in my direction. We looked at one another across the busy morning traffic for another instant. Then the connection was broken.

The Monk turned and walked slowly back toward the house with the orange trim. He seemed to be contemplating every flower and shrub as he went. Finally he disappeared into the orange door from which he had first appeared.

We are a country which revels in grandiose dreams, grand ideas and magnanimous gestures. It’s hard not to look with admiration upon the great speech, the heroic attempt, the unbelievable turnaround or the incredibly generous donation.

It is easy to forget that our lives are made up of hundreds of momentary encounters and small gestures. From the person next to us at a stop light, to the barista who hands us our coffee concoction, to those we pass on the street, we are constantly interacting with one another. I would suggest, that based upon sheer volume, these constant interactions have more impact upon the world than do the few grand ones.

Most of us have experienced a kind act or gesture which seemed to buoy us up the rest of the day. Likewise most of have experienced a rude remark or unkind gesture which seemed to eat away at our peace of mind, sometimes for a very long period of time.

As good stewards, we realize that we are responsible not only for how we use our time talent and treasure. We know that we are also responsible for others, even when it comes to their mental and emotional well-being.

It is not just about making a few grand gestures in our lives. It is also how we invest our time in thousands of seemingly insignificant gestures -- even a simple smile and nod of the head.

Dear God: Remind me that you call me to make a difference every time I encounter another.

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” ~ Felice Leonardo "Leo" Buscaglia Ph.D., American author and motivational speaker (1924-1928)

©2013 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.