Kindness is not some bubble gum expression of humanity.
Rather, it flows directly from the inner workings of our soul and reaches out to others in empathy, however briefly. Yes, it’s true that kindness is often trapped within a false hope. A hope that even our single gratuitous act will one day be returned in kind, particularly at a moment of extreme vulnerability.
Yet we seem to know, instinctively, that what we send out may well be thwarted before its return. Or, if returned, distorted beyond all recognition and gratitude.
But we can accept that. For it remains within us, through some communion on the other side of time.
Ultimately, that’s what engages our individual humanness, if not our shared humanity. It’s why we can yet again offer our humble prayers and loving thoughts to that stranger on the news who has been devastated like some twenty-first century Job. Or when that far away child we will never meet takes his final breath because others may have decreed it to be so.
Kindness knows no physical or emotional barriers.
Yet kindness represents but a single ounce of our still unfathomable but entirely distinct one full measure.
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