A Random Act

Last week, I was whining to my sister, April.  “I’m so sick of being nice. It doesn’t get you anywhere. Maybe Mom's right when she says that nice guys finish last.”

I’d called April after being frustrated over a recent incident where I’d felt that one more time; my kindness fell on deaf ears. "I feel like I give my all and it’s never enough.”

“I really try to be a good person,” I told her. “Just…nice.  Thoughtful, you know? I’m trying to do the random acts of kindness thing – even letting in those sneaky drivers who want to merge last-minute into my lane on the freeway for God’s sake!”

April, who never holds back, and often a voice of reason, must have hit her limit with me and snapped back: “Heath, who do you think you are, Mother Theresa?”

I burst out laughing, “Ok, ok, I so get it.”

“Just be you, Heath. Stay nice, do good things, and don’t worry if the good you put out there comes back to you.”

                                                 ____________________________________

The following night, I found myself standing amongst a sea of shiny nametags clipped precariously on cocktail dresses and suit pockets. Beside me, my husband, Hank, was chatting up another insurance executive. Cards were exchanged. A meeting was set. I looked to the quintet in the corner. The venue had high ceilings and bad acoustics. Above the din, no one could appreciate the music.

I followed Hank as he worked the room. It’s my occasional moonlighting job – corporate wife. Not a bad gig. I get to tag along to some great places. Meet some wonderful people who have become close friends. Insurance people get a bad rap. It’s anything but boring. Still, rarely have I heard someone say: “I’m going to get into the insurance business!”

But, the industry is a giving one, raising enormous amounts of funds for the underserved. And, that is why we were at this event – to raise money for the Insurance Industry Charitable Foundation.

Hank steered me to another small group. It was all business talk. I scanned the room for someone I knew to have a chat.  A pearl necklace on a petite blonde a few feet away caught my eye. I reached over and tapped her on her shoulder. “I love your necklace.”

She stepped away from her group. “It’s not a big deal,” she smiled. “I can’t remember where I got it.”

“I’ve been looking for one of those,” I told her. “Saw one at the jeweler. But, way out of my price range.”

She looked to be about my age with an executive title on her nametag, but the print was too small to read without my glasses. 

“You don’t need to go big,” she said. “Just find a good set of fake, like my tan,” she laughed. “Had a conference in Hawaii last week. I was pale as a ghost. One spray, and here I am!”

An acquaintance of hers walked up, and I politely exited back to Hank and his circle.

After the dinner, I stood up from our table and turned to get my wrap from the back of the chair and there she was, holding her pearl necklace.

“I want you to have this,” she said, putting it in my hand. 

I was stunned. “You are so sweet, but I can’t accept this. Thank you, but, this – this is too much!”

People flowed around us, moving past our table to leave.  “Yes, you can,” she said.

“You are too kind. I mean….”

“Just pay it forward," she said, cutting me off.  And, then, she was gone, swallowed by the crowd.

I turned to Hank. “Did you see that? Her? This?” I said, holding up the pearl necklace.

“Quick! I need to find her,” I called back to him as I made my way through the crowd to the front of the venue and out to the valet line.

She was nowhere.

Hank caught up to me and we tried to figure out where she could be. “Maybe her office is nearby and she walked to it,” he said.

“How can I even thank her? I don’t even know her name!”

“I guess you do as she asked and pay it forward,” he said, as we got into our car.

Hank pulled away from the curb while I held the pearls in my hand, staring at them in disbelief. "Oh, I'll pay if forward," I told him.

Then, I reached for my phone to send the text I'd started while waiting for our car: