Myopia creeps up on you until one day, you realize you’re squinting at the blackboard just to read the assignment. But because squinting solves your problem, you don’t even think to say anything about it to your parents. They usually have to notice you squinting at something else unless an observant teacher alerts them first.
And you end up with glasses. They make your eyesight great again, but now you have to remember to wear them. You have to make a new habit. I’ve done it. It was hard at first, but the improvement those glasses made to the quality of my life was so great, it wasn’t long before putting them on was a no-brainer.
Living kindly is like that. You have to see the world through a kindness lens, but that doesn’t mean you have to see the world through Rose Colored Glasses.
1968 — If you were in high school, you listened to the Top 40, waiting for your favorite song to come on the radio — probably a little transistor radio about the same size as a deck of cards — and maybe you had a single earpiece in your ear so you wouldn’t bother your parents. It might have looked a lot like this:
I just found Song Lyric Sunday through Linda G. Hill, and, although it’s 2:17 am, Monday, I’m still up, so it’s still Sunday to me. Plus, it really is Sunday in Hawaii and all the way to the International Date Line. Good enough.
Like looking for the good — or bad — in people, you will find kindness if you look for it. And often in unlikely places. Who thought to put these furry blooms in a stairway post two days ago? A child or a grownup? It was certainly a deliberate choice. There isn’t even one of these plants close by. Today they weren’t there, but they weren’t scattered on the ground, either. Where do you suppose they are now? In someone’s living room? Lining a bird’s nest? Strung together like a fuzzy crown gracing the head of a three year old Prince or Princess of the Playground?