In Such Poor Health Walking Was Impossible Until a Fellow Passenger Virtually Carried Me to a Restroom.

At the age of nineteenth year, my daily commute meant taking an crowded coach. It was perpetually jammed and invariably became standing room only when I boarded.

During a certain commute, I started experiencing incredibly sick when the coach rocked around the bends. I kept telling myself to persevere for a few more stops before the bus arrived at my stop, and then I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient public toilet to be sick.

The bus was approaching the street towards the destination as I understood I wasn’t going to hold on. All of a sudden, it seemed a veil came over me. The world became blank and silent; like someone had muted everything. I thought, “I will lose consciousness”.

Fortunately, I stood near the front of the bus, allowing me to take a few steps toward the driver and requested that the driver to stop, explaining to him I was going to get ill. The driver opened the doors and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.

I was determined not to vomit before a busy multi-lane road, so I forced myself up and endeavored to stumble across to the park opposite the street, thinking I could I could at least secretly conceal myself near some foliage to throw up. Yet I apparently blacked out. I was aware of my body but I was unable to walk or see clearly, so I started crawling towards the park.

“You right, love?”

In that instant, someone picked me up. I sensed a strong arm supporting me and a stranger inquired, “Are you okay, dear?” I told this mysterious stranger that I had to to vomit. So he virtually helped me walk into a nearby building and put me into the female bathroom. He asked me if I wanted him to wait for me but I declined.

Not long after, I felt better sufficiently to sit on the toilet and from the other side of the door I heard him inquire, “Do you need anything, love? Do you need anything?” I wasn’t able to rise at that moment but did manage to thank him and after a few more minutes recovered the use of my legs. I returned home and spent the next few days healing from what turned out to be a nasty tummy bug.

I never saw that man’s face – only his legs and a large metal toolbox he held – but he saved me, during a time when I was in my weakest state.

Many times, life has a way of making you guarded, hostile, and combative. What he did was the kind of action that melts away that hardening of the heart. He demonstrated that our default setting is towards kindness, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.