"Kindness is enough, my dear."
- A HumanKind
- Feb 5
- 3 min read
In times of fear, the smallest gestures can restore calm. We may not know the struggles others carry, but we can always be there to help carry the weight, if only for a moment.
It was just another ordinary day, one of those quiet moments when my mind is preoccupied with the simplest of tasks. I was walking to the supermarket—something routine, but I always find myself watching the world around me. As an introvert, I don’t often engage in small talk, but I enjoy observing the diversity of people I pass by, each one carrying their own story, their own emotions.
On this particular day, I crossed paths with an older man. He stopped me and handed me something I hadn’t noticed I had dropped. It was the money I had tucked into my jacket earlier, as I had hurried out the door. I quickly grabbed it, thanking him for his kindness, and wished him a nice day. He smiled, but before I could walk away, something unexpected happened.
Suddenly, the sound of sirens began to wail across the street. It was the annual emergency test—something I had received an alert for on my phone earlier that morning. I knew it was nothing to worry about. But as I looked at the older man, his face turned pale. His body stiffened, and his eyes widened in panic. In that moment, I saw it—the fear that flashed across his face. He didn’t know what was happening.
For a brief moment, he thought that the war had reached us.
I quickly reassured him, gently explaining that it was just a routine test. But despite my words, he was shaking, unable to speak. He had been completely overtaken by panic. His hands trembled as tears started to fill his eyes, and I could see that the fear was far more than just the sound of a siren—it was something deeper, something that had lived within him long before this moment.
Without hesitation, I helped him to a nearby bench, sitting beside him. I stayed with him for a few moments, trying to offer comfort in the most simple ways. It was hard to watch, knowing there was nothing I could say to truly erase his fear. He couldn’t speak. He just cried quietly, lost in a moment of overwhelming emotion.
Then, his wife appeared. She came out of a small shop, rushing over to him with concern. I stepped back, feeling that my part in this moment had passed. She took over, offering him the comfort and reassurance that only someone who truly knew him could give. She smiled at me, thanking me softly for helping him in that moment.
“I’ve got him from here,” she said. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
I offered to bring them something—anything they might need—but with a warm smile, she simply replied, “Kindness is enough, my dear.” Those words stayed with me.
As I walked away, I couldn’t stop thinking about the man. What had he seen in his life to make him react that way? What kind of horrors or experiences had he lived through that made something as simple as a siren bring back such overwhelming fear? I wondered what kind of memories, long buried, were resurfacing in that moment.
I silently wished him peace and rest, hoping that somehow, despite the panic and the tears, he would find comfort. That his heart would find a way to heal. We often forget that others carry so much with them, that the world is made up of so many different stories and histories. What is a passing siren to one person might trigger something much deeper for another.
In those moments, I was reminded that kindness doesn’t need to be grand. Sometimes, it’s just showing up when someone needs a calming presence, offering reassurance when the world feels like it’s spinning out of control. And sometimes, we can’t even fully understand the depth of what someone else has experienced—but we can offer our understanding, our compassion, and most importantly, our kindness.
I hope that, in the days ahead, that man finds the peace he deserves. I hope he finds rest in his future days, away from the echoes of fear that haunt him. And I hope we all remember that a little kindness can go a long way, especially in a world that can sometimes be so overwhelming.
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