Ah--the Love Bus. I remember it fondly. As you know from reading my new book HEALING, I and my family are completely indebted to a kind man in a pickup truck who saved us in rural PA when biblical rain had washed out the bike path between Cumberland, MA and Washington, D.C. He's immortalized in my nonfiction book, but it still bothers me that I don't know his name. Blanche Dubois aside, we do all depend on the kindness of strangers. As a home hospice nurse, I've been that "stranger," trying to always put more good in the world than I took from it.
These are such wonderful stories! You’ve already heard mine about the German train employee who bent the rules to let me put my feet up when I was sick and trying to get home.
You also made me remember that when I lived in Chicago, there was a driver on the red line who always gave a morning speech on his way downtown - he’d tell us the weather in a smooth, radio-host voice, wish us all a good day, and finish with, “And, students on the train, always remember: Work hard, study smart, and you’ll go far!” Same thing you described: Everyone still staring at their phones or newspapers but also, smiling just a tiny bit.
What a beautiful story! I love these public transportation workers who have realized that they have a chance to make an impact for good on their captive audiences! Secret smiles all around, I say!
I love these vignettes, thank you. I will offer hearty agreement with your assessment of _The Philadelphia Story_ , which is one of my favorites, too, and befuddled curiosity over your apparent hatred of _Harold & Maude_, about which I have very strong nostalgic feelings (it was filmed largely in and around my hometown & my high school drama teacher made me watch it as preparation for my first role in a play -- a hugely formative experience -- the play, not the movie ;p ) but no deep artistic convictions.
You must have grown up in a lovely part of the country! I think the issue with Harold and Maude is that it is often in advisable to revisit films you loved as a teenager when you are an old and crusty adult!
I love everyone of these stories, Mari. We do depend on the kindness of strangers--and how lucky we are that we can do so. One of the many times I depended on the kindness of strangers occurred one Christmas Day when I was a teenager driving my sister and me to church in a town a short distance from home. I put the car in overdrive (most of you won't know what that is) to pass a slow driver. Overdrive started the wheels spinning on the icy road, the car spun around several times and landed with the rear bumper against a telephone pole alongside a deep ditch. The slow driver and his daughter helped us out of the car and drove us home with me shaking all the way. We were so lucky and they were so kind.
Ah--the Love Bus. I remember it fondly. As you know from reading my new book HEALING, I and my family are completely indebted to a kind man in a pickup truck who saved us in rural PA when biblical rain had washed out the bike path between Cumberland, MA and Washington, D.C. He's immortalized in my nonfiction book, but it still bothers me that I don't know his name. Blanche Dubois aside, we do all depend on the kindness of strangers. As a home hospice nurse, I've been that "stranger," trying to always put more good in the world than I took from it.
I love that you are there for so many families at times of their greatest crises, helping them through. That is why we are here on this earth.
These are such wonderful stories! You’ve already heard mine about the German train employee who bent the rules to let me put my feet up when I was sick and trying to get home.
You also made me remember that when I lived in Chicago, there was a driver on the red line who always gave a morning speech on his way downtown - he’d tell us the weather in a smooth, radio-host voice, wish us all a good day, and finish with, “And, students on the train, always remember: Work hard, study smart, and you’ll go far!” Same thing you described: Everyone still staring at their phones or newspapers but also, smiling just a tiny bit.
What a beautiful story! I love these public transportation workers who have realized that they have a chance to make an impact for good on their captive audiences! Secret smiles all around, I say!
I love these vignettes, thank you. I will offer hearty agreement with your assessment of _The Philadelphia Story_ , which is one of my favorites, too, and befuddled curiosity over your apparent hatred of _Harold & Maude_, about which I have very strong nostalgic feelings (it was filmed largely in and around my hometown & my high school drama teacher made me watch it as preparation for my first role in a play -- a hugely formative experience -- the play, not the movie ;p ) but no deep artistic convictions.
You must have grown up in a lovely part of the country! I think the issue with Harold and Maude is that it is often in advisable to revisit films you loved as a teenager when you are an old and crusty adult!
I love everyone of these stories, Mari. We do depend on the kindness of strangers--and how lucky we are that we can do so. One of the many times I depended on the kindness of strangers occurred one Christmas Day when I was a teenager driving my sister and me to church in a town a short distance from home. I put the car in overdrive (most of you won't know what that is) to pass a slow driver. Overdrive started the wheels spinning on the icy road, the car spun around several times and landed with the rear bumper against a telephone pole alongside a deep ditch. The slow driver and his daughter helped us out of the car and drove us home with me shaking all the way. We were so lucky and they were so kind.