When a stranger in a wheelchair needed assistance getting downstairs without a ramp, I helped him get down because he was being helped by just one person and needed to be lifted.
I was in a foreign nation when the man in the wheelchair asked me my name and where I was from as I was leaving. My name is Wildcard5, and I’m from Pakistan, I told him. For lunch, he invited me to a restaurant across the street. I accepted despite my initial reluctance. He informed me that this is his restaurant and that I could have a free supper whenever I wanted after we placed our order. I informed him that the only requirement for accepting his offer was that he invite a random street vendor whenever he thinks back on what I did for him, rather than me coming to dine at his restaurant.
Kindness has its own reward, and that moment, so simple yet profound, reminded me of that. I was absorbed in my own thoughts as I was walking by when I noticed the man in the wheelchair having difficulty getting downstairs. Since there was no ramp in sight, he and his partner had no option except to manually raise the wheelchair, which was an extremely difficult operation for one person to complete. I didn’t think twice about helping out out of instinct. It was a modest gesture, something I would expect someone to do for me if I were in his shoes.
After we got down, I was going to start my day when the man interrupted. I couldn’t tell if his eyes were filled with wonder or thanks, or perhaps both. He wanted to know my name and my origins. I just replied, “I’m wildcard5, from Pakistan,” since I was in a foreign nation at the time.
The next thing he said surprised me. With a smile on his face, he asked me to lunch with him at a restaurant across the street. I paused at first. I wasn’t sure what to think of the invitation because it wasn’t something I received very often. However, I accepted his invitation since it seemed sincere.
Together, we crossed the street, and he revealed something else surprise when we sat at a table. He gestured about with a subdued air of pride, saying, “This is my restaurant.” “You can now eat here whenever you want—for free.”
He was so generous that I was surprised. I had given him a helping hand without anticipating anything in return, and now he was giving me something much more valuable than a complimentary supper. As a method to return the compassion he had just experienced, it was a deed of kindness.
Despite how much I valued the offer, I knew I couldn’t accept it the way he had intended. I gave him a look and replied, “I’ll accept your offer, but with one caveat.”
He arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “What is that?”
“I want you to invite a random beggar off the street for a meal whenever you remember what I did for you,” I added, rather than me coming here to eat for free.
He listened to my statements in silence for a while. Then, gradually, a smile appeared on his face. His head nodded. “That’s a deal,” he declared.
As we finished our dinner, we discussed travel, life, and the small ways that the world shocks us. Even though I didn’t see him again, I like to think that occasionally, a hungry, weary, and neglected person enters his business and discovers a warm lunch waiting for them due of a random act of goodwill between two strangers.
The tiniest deeds can occasionally have far-reaching consequences.
