In a noisy world, small kindnesses still leave the biggest mark, writes John Longhurst.
BAZZA SCANNED the empty front bar and opted to stand as Bella, the publican, poured him a schooner.
Bazza took a long sip:
“Thanks, Bella. I have been meaning to ask you, how is the novel coming along?”
Bella beamed:
“Well, I was stuck for ages, Bazza. If I was a car, I was well and truly bogged. Anyhow, I went to writing retreats and spent up big with online courses. I took advice from so-called writing experts. I rewrote, restarted, rewrote again, but each time I sought advice, I ended up going in either a different direction or around in a circle. The wheels just kept spinning and my confidence evaporated.”
Bella poured herself a glass of wine and took a sip:
“Now, my Dad is my greatest fan, but I hardly trust his judgement. But he is a builder and is working on the home of one of Australia’s most renowned writers. I am talking a critically acclaimed, award-winning and best-selling author. My Dad being my Dad, he starts spruiking about his genius writer of a daughter to this author and my dilemma of being ‘stuck’.”
Bella bit her bottom lip:
“Well, this author offers to ring me and nominates a time and a day. You can imagine how nervous I am as the day and time approach. I rehearse what I am going to say and am mindful of not taking up too much of this author’s time.”
They both took decent sips and Bella leaned in:
Well, Bazza, this author ended up chatting on the phone for well over an hour. He asked lots of questions about my commitment to writing. He actually listened to me. In summary, his advice was along the lines of writing retreats, courses, expert opinions and the like are fine, but in the end, you need to just write — back yourself and write. It was like a cloud lifting and the sun shining through. This author is even offering ongoing support. You can imagine the tear-stained texts between myself and Dad.
Both sets of eyes glistened and a long pause before Bazza said:
“What a great act of kindness, Bella.”
They both enjoyed a silence before Bazza leaned in:
“I had my own little tug of the heart strings last week on the treadmill at the gym. Don’t worry, it is more about reading the news than any great fitness program, Bella. Anyhow, I noticed a certain young doctor who looked after my wife in hospital early last year now frequents the gym. This doctor was incredibly kind, caring and patient. She explained exactly what was going to happen and alleviated both our anxieties.”
Bazza took a measured sip.
“But get this, after a couple of days, I am back at work and the mobile rings. The hospital number comes up and I fear the worst, but it is this very same doctor inquiring how I am coping. She inquired about my welfare. Unbelievable! I was quite overcome with emotion.”
Bazza leaned in:
Anyhow, back to the gym. And I think I really should thank this doctor but am mindful about what she might think being approached by an old fellow like myself, so I put it off and put it off. A week or two passed but finally, I worked up the courage and rehearsed the lines, and with an emotional knot in my throat, I approached her pedalling on the exercise bike and blurted out: ‘You would not remember me, but you looked after my wife in hospital last year and I really need to say you are the kindest and most caring doctor I have ever met’.
Bella smiled:
“How did she react, Bazza?”
Bazza shook his head:
“Ahh, Bella. She gave me a strange look, removed her earbuds and asked me to repeat what I said… and I lost it, completely.”
John Longhurst is a former industrial advocate and political adviser. He currently works as an English and History teacher on the South Coast of NSW.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Australia License
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