Betty killed my social life

Today, in WH Smith, I overheard a little girl say to her friend 'Oh no, I don't have enough to get my mum a card'. So I asked her how much she needed. She looked at me wide eyed and said 'Are you going to? You don't have to do that'. I asked again and she pointed to the price list and said 'FF, £1.89'. So I gave her £2, smiled, and walked away. I think she was around 10 or 11 and I think she will remember the stranger that was kind for no reason other than to be kind. And I think she will pay it forward.

I'm not special. I'm gifted with a lack of pride and a long memory. I remember being a kid and I remember how it felt when someone was kind to me for no reason other than to be kind. Once on a school trip I stood waiting patiently in a souvenir shop with no money, while all the other kids raced around excitedly. Phillip's mum gave me 50p and I bought a little felt covered tiger cub. I had it until well into my 30's, because it was a souvenir of kindness.

That's why I think my little girl will pay it forward.

A fellow bloggger has been writing about random acts of kindness, something I subscribe to and practice on a fairly regular basis, though not EVERY Friday. It's one of the many things I adore about Danny Wallace.

So I thought I'd share one of my most cringeworthy gifts of kindness. They do mostly leave me wanting the ground to open up, but I think that is because people react so strangely. I've written to numerous retailers about the high quality of their staff. I've picked up drunk strangers in bare feet and given them a lift. My sister and I are always collecting lonely Mo's on nights out, sharing our evening and making sure they get home safely. I once put a girls hair up in a pony tail in the middle of Oxford St because her dress was too tight for her to lift her arms and do it herself. She said she had an interview. I still wonder if she just wanted to steal my purse.

But this story is not about any of that.