Remembering Kindness

Growing up, I had parents that taught me some very strong values. Genius is subjective. Respect is earned. Kindness is paramount. These values have been carried with me throughout my life on many occasions, but one still stands with me today. Slights are soon forgotten but kindness is long remembered.

I was in Physician Assistant school in Maryland and like many of my colleagues, I was on a budget. Each quarter when the student loan check came in, I looked at my expenses that were necessary and what was left was for me. Sometimes “what was left for me” was quite nominal. This left me with rationing food and on occasion choosing between eating or heating/cooling my basement studio apartment. I was too proud to ask my parents for money and knew the short-term sacrifices would be worth a brighter future.

During one rotation in downtown Baltimore, when money allowed, I would visit the cafeteria early for coffee and maybe even toast or a muffin if it was in the budget. I’ll never forget a cafeteria employee, a woman they called May. May worked daily, and despite what seemed like hard physical work for a woman likely in her seventies, she always seemed to have a smile on her face. While her face was etched in the lines revealing a lifetime of hard times, her eyes, so lively and soft, stood in stark contrast. They emanated warmth and caring, and I always brightened when I saw her. We would share small talk and wish each other a good day. I never knew much about her, but in contrast to so many other people, her kind demeanor was always uplifting. She would give me words of encouragement and tell me that all the hard work would pay off; I almost eagerly awaited that small conversation each morning.

I came back for a second rotation many months later when my food budget was at a nadir. The winter had been extra-cold and my heating bill was high. Coffee was now a luxury and certainly, breakfast was not an option. I arrived at the cafeteria (our team’s meeting place) and eagerly looked for May. There she was with that perpetual hint of a smile on her face and she hadn’t forgotten me. We exchanged a hug and she said, “welcome back doctor”. I recall trying to explain to her the difference between a Doctor and a PA, but she just didn’t get it and it didn’t matter. I could tell May was proud of me for pursuing a career in medicine, and it almost made me blush. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the loudest growl my stomach had ever emitted burst out. I could not have been more embarrassed. May looked at me and I shyly said, “tummies upset today”, but I could tell she didn’t believe me.  

The next day, I again visited the cafeteria and as always, May was there. She approached me immediately, but instead of the usual small talk May quietly said, “come over here I have something for you”. Behind the countertop was a brown bag with 3 loaves of bread: banana nut, cranberry, and chocolate chip. She said, “this will make your tummy feel better”. I can still taste that delicious homemade bread years later.

I wonder if May will ever know how much her kindness touched me. I’m sure she is long gone from this world, but her memory is not nor the lesson she imparted. I often think of May when I am dealing with difficult circumstances and patients. No matter how challenging some patients can be, I think of May’s kindness and try and remember they too are likely dealing with many stresses and challenges. May will never know how she lives on, but I will never forget.

As we go through this very challenging time, be the leader and the person you want to remember in the future.