A Glass Full of Water

“The door knocker thingie must be here somewhere,” I said to my oldest daughter Sarah, as we brushed  twigs, leaves and spider webs off our clothing. It was a damp and dark, but it didn’t matter. We were visiting Dr White*, an elderly gentleman who lived over the road from Gordonton Primary School. He lived by himself in a house that had seen better days. It was  shrouded by overgrown trees and bushes.   We called out together, “ Dr White! Dr White!” We knocked and waited, and waited. Shuffling and mumbling could be heard. Many locks were being undone. The door creaked slowly open and a warm smile greeted us. As usual, he offered me a cup of tea, orange juice for Sarah and some stale biscuits. Sarah remembers me giving her a father stare when she tried to palm off her half eaten biscuit under the table. I remember his fingerless gloves and toothy smile. We would visit unannounced as he was always at home. The company and conversations were worthwhile and treasured. I’m so...

On the Special Olympics Games day, nervous faces were at both ends of the100 metre track. The starter gun echo reverberated around the almost empty Porritt Stadium in Hamilton. Closer and closer they came. Just imagine a 90kg athlete running at you. Your job is to stop them running past you or over you. If you don’t slow them down and then stop them, they will continue around the track, smiling all the way!  My Year 7/8 class at Gordonton Primary School were experiencing a very different version of kindness. They were helping young people and adults with intellectual disabilities participate in this event assigned to us. We were invited to help every year by Neil, the school caretaker.  The class were keen to help, but naturally had a lot of questions. I used to end my talk with them by saying they were about to possibly experience a life changing event.  Advice was given to work in pairs and look after the athletes and each other. We had lots of laughs and at the end of ...

Our family of five lived in Darwin, Australia for a year on a teacher exchange. We swapped our jobs, cars, houses and kept our wives and children.  Darwin was an amazing city to live in, fast growing, cosmopolitan and hot. The humidity level in the wet season would often be 100% and still it wouldn’t rain. All ethnic groups and cultures appeared to be accepted, except one - the aboriginal people and their culture.  On one occasion, I was walking outside and sought refuge from the oppressive heat by sheltering under a tree and sat on a park bench. Another person was sharing the seat with me. Me being me, I started up a conversation. The aboriginal man and I were talking away, when we were interrupted by a loud voice,  “Do you know what you are sitting next to?” Instantaneously I replied, “What did you say? I’ll sit next to who I like!” Our heated exchange finished abruptly. Since when was a person a ‘what’? Another time on a family visit to Alice Springs, we were walking a...

Brian Chesham was sleeping rough for 15 years. He would park his battered car underneath the Stewart Street trees in Raglan.  Val and I first noticed him when we arrived over  six years ago. His hair, beard and baggy pants blew in the wind as he spent countless hours padding around town in bare feet with his loyal German Shepherd, Luga.  We would often say hi and Brian would grunt back. After many such greetings the grunt turned into friendly conversations and returned smiles. Brian grew to trust us and once he got to know you he valued chatting over a coffee outside a few cafes. He could tell a few yarns and enjoyed a good belly laugh. He had a sharp mind and a quick wit. Raglan appreciated Brian for who he was. Our community generously purchased him a van fitted out with a fridge, cooktop and dog bowls. Brian was rapt with the gift and if possible his toothy grin got bigger.  A local farmer let him put his van under cover in a barn over winter.  Brian passed a...

Cafes are wonderful gathering places to observe small but significant acts of kindness. Walking to one of my favourite Raglan cafes I noted a customer sweeping the footpath outside and another time a different customer was helping put the chairs out. Hang around long enough in a cafe and you may well see someone caring for others.  A couple of my older friends were in a nearby cafe. On my arrival, I noticed the cafe owner close the door of the cafe so a cold draft wouldn’t go on them. Such a thoughtful thing to do. The owner of the cafe then went away and got a lap blanket as well.   A young couple at a Mount Maunganui cafe gave up their seats for my wife Val, me and our daughter Ruth. How kind.  My twin brother Chris was impressed by the actions of a manageress of a New Plymouth cafe when an elderly customer had a coughing fit. No fuss was made and as a result the customer’s dignity and self esteem remained intact.  As I’m writing this blog post a customer needed th...