Simple.

A few days ago I found myself sitting in the airport at a restaurant. If I remember correctly I was trying to eat a nutritionally void meal (that was quite good), wipe spit-up off of whoever was holding Blake at the time, and find a clean outfit and diaper in my bag. Simultaneously. 

At the same time my niece, Madyson, who is both totally fearless and curious was up to her usual antics...entertaining anyone who would watch with funny faces, gestures, and words. Now I happen to think that being fearless and curious is a delightful combination. I would love to see the world through Madyson's eyes. However, I am certain there are moments, or will be moments, when her parents think otherwise. 

I digress. 

So Madyson spots a big yellow dog. An adorable dog. And this particular dog was traveling with a lady in a wheelchair. It seems his job was to do the things she couldn't. And Madyson wanted to meet this dog. Now being that it was an assistance dog we weren't sure if was okay for her to introduce herself. So Jay, top-notch dad that he is, diverted her attention by pointing out the shiny floor tiles that showed her reflection. And so she became totally engrossed with, well, herself. We moved on.

The lady in wheelchair did not. The particular restaurant we were in wasn't the fanciest place you will ever eat. The tables and chairs were bolted to the floor, and quite close together. Clearly the designer had maximum occupancy in mind. For several minutes she weaved her wheelchair in and out of tight places. Here. There. Little to the left. Little to the right. She had her own nutritionally void meal to consume. Her own plane to catch. But she didn't seem to be concerned with that. And several minutes later she was near our table. Telling us it was okay for Madyson to pet her dog. All that work just to tell us Madyson, who had moved on, could say hi to her dog. 

I think it was one of the most genuine and pure acts of kindness I have ever seen. It seems so simple, really. Sure, you can meet my dog. Except that for her it's not so simple. It's not just a dog. It's her helper. It does the things she can't. It helps take her where she needs to go. This dog needs to focus. And she couldn't just walk over and say, "Hey, I saw your little girl looking at Rover. She's welcome to pet him." It took lots of time. And effort. And I bet her food was cold. But she didn't seem to be concerned by the logistics. 

I don't think I'll ever forget it. And the thing is I bet she will. I could be wrong, but in that one simple act she seemed to me the kind of person who does kind things all the time. 

Seems simple, right?