For the Kindness You Once Showed Me

In a small hobby shop thrown in the middle of a middle size town is a man called Phil. Aisles lined with different models from cars to boats to airplanes cover one half of the store. The other half keeping a collection of art supplies from a children’s watercolor pallet to canvases and oil paints. For years, Phil has been bringing joy, child and grown-up alike, with his little shop of treasures just waiting to be created.

When people outside of the city hear about Phil and everything he does, they say, “Phil must be a fool.” Some people can’t see the beauty of what Phil does. Only the way that he was going to lose everything in the end.

Like on a very cold winter evening as he was closing his shop.

Phil pushed the key into the lock of his shop. Making sure the door was secure with a final pull before he headed to his car. Across the street from him he could see a long line of people waiting in the freezing cold for a hot bowl of soup. The snow blowing around the shifting figures that were doing anything to keep warm.

At the end of the line he could see a small group of people huddling together for warmth. A mother clung to her three children as they shivered in the small cluster. None of them had any winter clothing on, only a thin sweater for each. Their body heat being sucked away by the merciless wind that pressed against them. They stood with their hands under their arms to try to warm their fingers and shaking like a leaf in the wind clinging desperately to a branch.

Phil didn’t hesitate. He got in his car and drove off.

A few minutes later he arrived and quickly hurried out of his car. He pulled out several coats, three small and one large, and a bundle of scarves, gloves, and hats. Almost too much for him to carry all at once.

He ran across the street and stopped beside the woman. He arrived just as the little girl at the center of the huddle complained about the cold once again.

“Put these on before you all freeze to death,” Phil said as he passed out the coats, gloves, scarves, and hats.

There was no protest or refusal. Everyone pulled on the warming clothes and sighed in relief as they felt heat begin to come back to their frozen extremities.

Phil reached into his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out a fifty, putting the bill in the woman’s hand.

“Get these kids inside and get yourselves something to eat. There’s a Denny’s just down the road that does all you can eat pancakes. My treat.”

The three children turned to their mother and immediately began begging for pancakes.

“Denny’s is two miles away. I don’t think we can walk in this,” the mother said regretfully.

“Then I’ll drive you,” Phil said before the looks of disappointment could fill the children’s faces. Immediately they began pleading again for every child’s dream of endless pancakes.

The mother relented and the small family piled into Phil’s car. Driving there took no time at all and the kids in the back were giggling about eating pancakes until they couldn’t move, with lots of syrup and jam. Stopping in front of the restaurant, the kids quickly hurried out as the mother paused a moment and squeezed Phil’s hand in gratitude.

Phil sat there for a long moment as he watched the mother and three children get seated in a booth near the window. The mother was smiling as the kids where bouncing up and down in their seats.

Phil drove home and gave his kids the biggest, tightest hug that he could muster that night. Thankful that he was blessed with such good fortune to not be out in the cold on that snowy night.

This was the nature of Phil. Those that were in need or down on their luck, he would help with whatever he could. His two children never thought of him as anything other than the kindest person they had known.

Like the time when a young couple gave the bell of the door a soft ring.

The young woman was dressed in a maternity dress with one hand on her lower back, trying to ease the pressure of her pregnancy. Her belly swelled out with the small life growing inside of her. Her hair was pulled in a messy bun and her brows drawn together in a look of worry. Her eyes spoke volumes of the distress that she was in.

“We really can’t afford this,” she said softly to the man beside her.

“This may be the only thing I can give him,” the man said with a strained tone. Wearing a pair of grease smeared coveralls he began looking through the little blank figurines that hung on a series of pegs near the counter. His cheeks looked slightly hollow and his hands shook with a certain lack of strength, his fingers often fumbling with the little ceramic figures.

“I might not be able to keep the business going and we might lose the house, but my son will have something to remind him of the good times.”

Phil couldn’t help but overhear the pain in the man’s voice. The defeat that soaked into every word that he spoke. The grease on his hands and the tired look of failure in his eyes said everything that Phil needed to know.

“Excuse me,” Phil said. “How far along are you?”

The woman looked to him and smiled.Her slender fingers caressed her swollen belly with a motherly touch.

“Seven and a half months,” she responded. “In the final stretch.”

Phil smiled widely. “Nothing’s better than a kid. I have two of them and I can’t imagine a world without them.” He waved the couple closer and kept his voice low.

“I couldn’t help overhearing. Are you two alright?”

The couple looked to one another, then back to Phil and the man sighed.

“My business isn’t going well and we are late on a few bills. Hardly have enough to keep fed,” the man explained.

“It doesn’t look like you eat at all,” Phil remarked at the malnourished look the man was gaining.

“He doesn’t really,” the woman said. “He makes sure that I get most of the food for the baby.”

“Starving yourself isn’t the way to go about that,” Phil said. He hit the cash out button and pulled out four hundred dollars in twenties. Reaching over the counter he pulled one of the figurines of a bear holding a small ball and handed the money to the man.

“Get yourself something to eat and pay those bills,” he said before placing the little figure in the woman’s hands. “Congratulations on the baby.”

“We can’t take a loan. I don’t know when I can pay you back,” the man said pushing the cash back to Phil.

“It isn’t a loan,” he responded. “It’s a baby shower present.”

The woman clutched the little figure in her hands as a smile slowly spread on her face. A small light of hope shone in her eyes as she threw her arms around Phil’s neck and thanked him over and over like she was chanting. She looked down at the little figure and started a slow walk to the front of the store.

Phil turned to the man and his eyes widened in surprise.

The man was crying. Crystal tears slowly rolling down his cheeks, leaving behind trails through the grim, as he stared at his wife.

“She’s glowing,” he whispered. “I haven’t seen her smile like that in four months.”

The man shook Phil’s hand and gave him an appreciative nod. The couple disappeared out the door walking hand in hand.

Phil’s kind nature and his willingness to help anyone that seemed to be in need was enough to drive his wife insane. But she loved him for it. She knew how much happiness that he brought people with his acts of compassion.

One that she would ask him to tell her about again and again made her feel so proud of the man she married.

A boy and his plane arriving with the jingle of a small bell.

A mother and her young son came through the door, dressed in old dirty clothes that haven't been washed in weeks. Phil had been watching them stand in front of his front window display that currently showed off a selection of flyable model planes. From the boy’s dirt smudged face he could see that wonder and excitement that the planes offered beyond a pane of glass.

Holding her son's small hand, she stepped up to the register with an almost fearful composure. “Hi. My son really wants to know about the model planes in the front window there,” she said in a timid voice. She looked tired. Heavy bags under her eyes from sleepless night had a soft puffy look to them, like she had stopped crying only moments ago.

Phil looked to the young boy and gave him a wide smile. “Those are a good choice. Some of the best fliers in the world use those planes in their competitions. Any of those would be a good choice for a young pilot, such as yourself,” he said.

The boy’s face lit up with excitement as he whispered to his mother about getting one. “How much are they?” she asked.

“Well, my best seller is ninety-nine ninety-nine,” Phil stated.

“Oh...is there one a little less expensive? Maybe one in the twenty dollar range?”

“I'm afraid the lowest priced one I have is seventy dollars.” The mother sighed and gave her son the most remorseful look that could break the heart of Ebeneezer Scrooge. “Hey young man,” Phil quickly said, cutting off the mother. “Over in that corner back there is a bunch of remote control trucks that you can drive. Go see if there's one that you like.” The boy gave his mother a questioning look before she nodded and he rushed off. “When was the last time that you were able to get him something?” Phil asked once the boy was out of ear-shot.

“Two Christmas's ago. I had some extra money and I was able to get him some used shoes that fit. He's growing out of those now. He absolutely loves planes and he has been begging for one just like those in the window. I don't know what I'm gonna do,” the mother said trying to hold back her sobs. She ran a shaking hand through her hair unwashed hair.

The young boy ran over with a bright smile on his face. “So can we get the plane, Mama?” he asked.

“Honey,” she said kneeling down to his level. “I have to tell you something. We...”

“Are a very lucky customer,” Phil interjected. The pair looked up to him with confused expressions.

“Yes. According to my numbers you are the...two hundred and forty-seventh customers today. Which means that you win the grand prize of any one item in the store. So go on pick whatever plane you want from the section over there.” The boy gave him the widest of smiles and rocketed off toward the models. The mother stared at him in complete shock.

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but I like waiting for my customers to be at the register when they hear the news,” Phil said as he gave her a caring smile and watched the young boy bring over his choice of plane. The mother couldn’t move, still unable to speak as the boy set down a plane with a price tag of just under a hundred dollars.

“The De Havilland DH.82 Tiger Moth! That's one of my favourites. This one is a great choice because it has an electric engine so you don't need to pay for gas or anything. Just charge and start flying.” The boy looked up to him with the brightest smile his mother had ever seen. The mother smiled back with tears welling in her eyes.

“Now. How old are you young man?” Phil asked.

“I'm six,” the boy said.

“Six! I can't believe it! That is the exact age needed for you to push the sold button on the register here. Why don't you ask your mother if you can?”

“Can I Mama?! Please?!” the boy begged tugging on her coat sleeve, his eyes wide with that large puppy dog look for this once in a lifetime experience.

The mother smiled and shook her head. “Can those eyes get any bigger? Go on,” she said letting her son run around the counter and climb up the stool that Phil placed for him.

“Just hit this button right here and the plane is yours,” Phil said pointing to the sale button.

The boy pushed it and out shot the drawer filled with cash.

“That's it. The plane is yours.” Phil helped the boy down and pulled out ten of the twenties that were sitting in the drawer from that day's sales. Putting the plane into a large bag, he gave it to the boy and set the cash into the mother's hand.

“Go get him some brand new shoes. There's a Wal-Mart just down the road.”

“Honey, can you wait by the door?” the mother asked. She tried to steady her shaking hand that held the cash. The boy hurried off with a giddy skip in his step to the door, clutching the bag to his chest tightly.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice watery and on the verge of cracking.

“Because sometimes there’s more profit in giving something away than in making a sale. You and your son have a blessed day.” The mother slowly put the money away and walked to her son. Taking his hand the pair of them hurried down the street with a little more hope for the future.

It’s been twenty years since the boy came into his shop for that plane. Phil is now eighty and he still works in his hobby shop. Despite more than sixty years of providing hobby supplies and smiles to everyone, his business is now failing. Few people come in anymore and there is a chance that he will lose his small shop.

He sighs as he looks over the bills of his house and business, failing to see how they were going to make it to the next month. Even his car was breaking down every so often. He idly wondered if his kindness had been his undoing.

Sighing he closed up the shop and walked to his car. He groaned as he saw that the tire on the back of his car was now flat and he had no spare. Walking back to his shop he called for a tow and waited inside, tinkering with one of the many planes that he built for display.

A man dressed in a polo shirt, with ‘Dave’s Tow & Repair’ embroidered on the breast, knocked on the door a couple hours later and stepped in. “Were you the guy needing a tow for a flat?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Phil said standing up, his joints groaning in complaint.

“Not sure why you called me. There's nothing wrong with your car.”

“What?” Phil hurried outside and saw that the flat tire that he had seen was no longer there. He scratched his head as he commented, “I guess I must have imagined it.”

“Well if you don't need me, I'll just head back.” With a wave, the tow truck driver drove off down the empty street.

Still scratching his head he walked to his car and saw the yellow slip of paper placed underneath the wiper. Freeing it and unfolding the paper it read,

For the kindness you once showed me.

It was left unsigned. When he arrived home he told his wife about the strange event and they agreed that a Good Samaritan must have come by and given him a new tire.

The next night, when Phil arrived home, he found a full meal waiting for him on the porch. It was still hot and came with another note.

For the kindness you once showed me.

The dish of grilled chicken and green beans almost brought the eighty year old man to tears.

They asked their children if they knew anything about it and they responded with as much surprise as Phil and his wife had. They invited them to a family dinner at the local steak house and they arrived with a completely filled building. Phil and his family sat down and ate, much like they used to years ago.

When the check arrived, Phil insisted on paying, even though he knew it would strain their budget. When he flipped the small paper over he was shocked to see that the total was zero and a small note had been written at the bottom.

For the kindness you once showed me.

Phil rushed to the waiter and demanded to know who wrote the note.

“I did,” a man said sitting at the table next to Phil. The man was tall and dressed in a polo shirt. Around the table sat a woman, about the same age as the man and dressed in a modest dress; two young boys, who were currently arguing about who got the last roll; and an elderly woman who looked to Phil with a warm smile.

“Do I know you?” Phil asked.

“I don't expect you to remember me, but fifty years ago I got a model plane from your store with my mother,” the man said, nodding to the elderly woman. Phil's family walked over and he could tell from the confusion on Phil's face that he would need more than that.

“At the time, I was six years old and covered in dirt from head to toe with a pair of shoes that were well used and I had outgrown. You gave me De Havilland DH.82 Tiger Moth and handed my mother two hundred dollars.” Phil's wife covered her mouth as she gasped in surprise.

“Thanks to your kindness, I developed a love for flying and became a commercial pilot, where I met my wife. If you hadn't have given me that plane that day. I never would have become a pilot. You changed my life. For the kindness you once showed me, I paid your bill.” The man held out his hand and Phil took it, still reeling from the shock.

The man at the table behind Phil stood up. Phil recognized him as the man that had come with the tow truck the night of his flat.

“Thirty years ago, you gave my family four hundred dollars so that we could pay our bills and have food to eat. At the time, my tow truck company was failing and my wife was pregnant with our first child. If you hadn't helped us, we would be on the street right now. Now I've never had so much business and we’re looking at moving into a bigger place. For the kindness you once showed me, I replaced your flat tire.”

“My family was standing in line at the soup kitchen in the middle of winter,” a woman said walking up to Phil.

“Because there were so many people the line stretched outside in the snow. My three children didn't have any coats and we huddled together to try to keep warm. You brought us winter coats, gloves and scarves to keep us warm and gave us fifty dollars to get endless pancakes at Denny’s. My two sons are lawyers and my daughter is a fashion designer. For the kindness you once showed me, I made you a home cooked meal.”

Person after person came up to Phil and told him about how he had helped them and how it changed their lives. The entire restaurant was standing in line waiting to meet the man that had given so much to them. Each of them would finish their story with the phrase, “For the kindness you once showed me,” and place two one-hundred dollar bills on the table next to them. As the line of people began to dwindle down over twenty thousand dollars lay on the table.

Finally, the last person to shake Phil's hand was the mayor himself.

“When I was young my parents were divorced. I wanted to talk about how I felt but neither of them were listening to me. To escape the pain, I ran away from home and I wandered into your shop. I walked up and down those isles aimlessly for what seemed like days. When I was about to leave for the bus that had stopped outside, you stopped me and let me play with a model of a Chevy Standard Six. I was so emotional that when you asked me what was wrong I told you everything that was happening at home. You told me how my parents still loved me and would be devastated if I were to just disappear. After I calmed down I tried to give the truck back. You told me to keep it and to come back if I needed someone to listen. When I got home, I found out that my parents had been looking for me for hours. They were so scared that something had happened to me. If you hadn't stopped me that day and given me that truck I would most likely be dead in a ditch somewhere. For the kindness you once showed me, I have personally paid all of your debt and would like to help you expand your shop so that my children can experience the kindness that you have shown me and everyone here.”

Both Phil and his wife were in tears as they heard every story.

Felt every ounce of kindness given back to them.

They stared at the pile of money that covered the table and hugged one another to keep one the other from falling. Phil was completely speechless, unable to find the words to express his gratitude.

Kindness had been his life's work, and Phil could finally see his own masterpiece that he had been creating for the last sixty years.

"Carry out a random act of kindness, with no expectation of reward, safe in the knowledge that one day someone might do the same for you."

Princess Diana