In July 2018, I was doing a photo shoot with my daughter and granddaughters out at McCourtie Park near Somerset Center. We were walking around and discovered a small rock painted bright purple, sporting the words, “Have courage and be kind.” I left the rock where I had found it after taking a quick photo.
But the slogan gave me pause.
Kindness already seemed in short supply then, but since the pandemic it has nearly disappeared from the lexicon of human communication. I am just as guilty as anyone when it comes to being crabby and grumpy–it seems to be a byproduct of our society since the pandemic. Not to mention the divisive nature of politics and the general sense of anxiety we all seem to be experiencing. It all contributes to our crabbiness, I think. And that makes us less kind.
Kindness is as necessary to a civil society as oxygen to our bodies, especially in a community like Tecumseh. It is a pillar upon which we build our relationships with each other.
When I was growing up, I was taught to respect adults, avoid name-calling, behave myself, get along with my seven siblings, and clean my plate. My parents took the time to be parents, my mom stayed home and my dad went to work. In the evenings, we ate dinner together, did our homework and watched a little TV. I cannot say I actually heard my parents say “be kind,” but my mom did say “be nice” quite a lot. So perhaps kindness was just implied.
Since I’ve been launched into my 60s by Father Time, I’ve come to appreciate my parents’ hankering for the “Good Old Days.” Back in 1974, when Tecumseh celebrated its Sesquicentennial, I was about to start my junior year at THS. That summer was filled with parades, pageants, moustache and beard contests, and all manner of nostalgic looks back to Pioneer Days, the Gay Nineties, the Roaring Twenties, and the Fabulous Fifties. The elder Jim Lincoln, who published this newspaper, co-authored an 80-page booklet detailing the history of Tecumseh, including the early founders, old homes, factories, businesses, hospitals, and lots of pictures of the way things were. It was an ambitious project celebrating all that we loved about our community.
The past seems simpler, the worries fewer, our lives better. I think back to my high school years and it was simpler for me–but not my parents. And when they looked back to their youth, it was simpler for them, but not my grandparents. It’s really all about perspective. My kids and grandkids face their own challenges as they navigate this complicated world.
But it’s always been complicated, hasn’t it? Life today is better in many ways. We have technological advances that help us in the “day-to-day,” providing options for longer lives during which we can enjoy more than our ancestors ever thought possible. Life is good here.
But it could be better.
We could be kinder to each other. We could say “thanks” to the folks who are showing up to work so that we can grab a coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the way to work.
We could be nicer when we have to wait a little longer in the checkout line at the grocery or to fill our tanks at the station where folks are swarming for gas at $3.89 a gallon.
We could put down our phones and actually engage in a conversation with someone while we’re standing in that checkout line.
We could be civil about our political and religious differences on social media instead of firing off unkind comments.
We could be kinder.
Someday, all that we have worked to acquire will be gone. What will survive are the relationships we build with each other in our families, our communities, our world. It may take a bit more effort to choose kindness, and sometimes it takes courage. But in the end, that’s what folks will remember. Not your car or your house or even your cash gifts.
But they will remember your kindness.
SQUIBS 