Recently I took my daughter’s watch into Timpsons in the hope of repair. It’s a much loved,10-year old Harry Potter-themed watch, whose plastic buckle had become insecure. We knew it was easy to replace the whole strap but this is embroidered with the Hogwarts house crests, so we very much wanted to keep it and just replace the buckle. The guys at Timpsons were helpful, positive, efficient and in very little time had fixed a shiny new silver buckle. Already a very satisfied customer, I was then delighted when they told me the repair was free of charge. The small gesture of gratuitous kindness lifted my spirits.
I am a great believer in small acts of kindness and courtesy. I think their effect far outweighs the effort incurred and the benefits are enjoyed by all the participants. Like Portia’s famous description of mercy, ‘It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.’ So giving way to other road users when driving, allowing the customer with just a couple of items to go in front in the supermarket queue as I stand there with my basketful; I honestly believe these gestures, though tiny, cumulatively contribute to our well-being. And although I don’t believe in a strictly reciprocal ‘karma’, I do think that adding to the general goodwill increases the chances of our receiving kindness in due course.
My elderly mother has been in hospital recently and it seemed the most helpful thing we could do was to time our visits to coincide with mealtimes. She has dementia and needs direction and encouragement to eat; sometimes she needs to be fed. She no longer knows who we are, although we remain vaguely familiar, and the exercise of gently prompting her to co-operate, through a meal measured in single digit spoonfuls, becomes an impersonal but tender gesture of objective kindness. The same care is shown to her constantly by the amazing members of the NHS staff. I suppose I am ridiculously idealistic about this but I wonder about what it must feel like to do a job which means you spend the day doing good things.
Being good, being kind, giving pleasure. We are often surrounded by many worse acts.
When my dad died, I was touched by the neighbours who said they remembered him as always having a joke to share. He always seemed to have a new nonsense riddle or absurd shaggy dog story to tell, such that their encounters with him were marked by gentle humour and made them feel a bit happier. As epitaphs go, I think it is an enviable one.
To be remembered at all is a privilege; to be remembered with kindness a consummation devoutly to be wished.
lesleyjonesberry 
You will be