I came across this article in The Age the other week - "The ordinary heroes who stood up"
It talks of a man called Silas who was a Hutu soldier in the army in Rwanda, when the country entered into probably one of the most violent times of its history. In 1994 as the Hutu's began their massacre of the Tutsis, Silas began smuggling the Tutsis across the border to safety. He rescued over 50 people before his fellows soldiers realised what he was doing and then he, too, had to escape.
In a world that seems to only report on the cruelty human beings inflict upon each other, stories like the one of Silas remind me that there are amazing acts of compassion, kindness and bravery out there.
On a much smaller scale, the every day people doing (extra) ordinary things can still make a difference - especially to those they help.
Years ago, two 17 year old girls and had just moved to Melbourne, Australia. They had just begun their final year of high school and one night set off giggling into the city to grab a late snack.
As they jauntily walked down the street with not a care in the world, one of girls stepped on a discarded needle.
On this same street, in the heart of Melbourne city, there lived a man. He was ragged and filthy with clothes that hung on a body starved for years of a decent meal. The two girls had walked by him numerous times before, barely giving him a glance, much less a single thought. He spent most of his days begging for spare change and blending in with the grey and brown buildings around him.
This man had a choice that night. He could sit in his little corner and watch the two young girls panicking at the protruding needle stuck in her shoe, or he could do what he chose to do next.
He ran over to them grabbing two coins and a tissue out of his back pocket. He asked the girl to sit down as he used the coins to pull the needle out and wrapped it in the napkin. He then looked at her and said, "There ya go love, doesn't look like it got ya skin, you'll be fine." And with that, he disappeared around the corner as quickly as he came.
I remember that night like it happened just yesterday. My best friend had felt her heart stabbed with fear when she looked at what she had stepped on. And I hadn't a clue what to do. The relief we felt when this beautiful human being came over to help us was huge. All we could manage at the time was a half breathless thank-you.
The next time I saw him was years later. I was walking down the street and there he stood, holding his cup out for spare change.
I held out my hand and said hello. I was happy to finally see him and to properly thank him for his act of kindness so many years before. I wondered if he would even remember it.
But he looked at me blankly, swaying from side to side and began mumbling things I couldn't understand. He wasn't that young man he was when I had first seen him, he seemed to have fallen deep into another world that was no longer in touch with the world most of us were still a part of.
I put some change into his cup and thanked him for his help that night. I said a small prayer that he should be kept safe wherever his journey in life takes him.
Looking back, I wish I had done more, tried to help him in some way. Not just to repay him for his kindness, but to show him that what he did really meant a lot to us. I hoped on some level he knew that.
This stranger's act of kindness has stayed with me to this day and I know it will stay with me for a long time yet.
Whenever I feel the weight of the world's cruelty, I remember stories like the one of Silas, as well as my own story, of the night a kind stranger helped two distraught young girls, and walked away expecting nothing.
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