A woman I know had a really bad day. She needed to be in Detroit, left plenty early enough, and then ran into even worse weather than she'd allowed for.
Already late, she got to her destination only to find the meeting she'd come to attend had been moved 15 city traffic miles away, and she didn't know the directions.
Meanwhile, her phone rang with disconcerting news at home. When she finally arrived at the new spot, the meeting was about over.
Leaving, she really wanted to cry. I told her later that all it would have taken to get the tears flowing for sure would have been some stranger doing something nice for her.
Because that's what happens. So often, it's not the things that should make you cry that bring on the tears, it's when something unexpectedly nice happens in the middle of the rest of it.
I was having a mixed-up day a week ago, where one thing built on another and nothing felt quite right. Then I got on the phone with someone I've never talked to before regarding a project I'm working on and he was so helpful. It was routine business, but he wasn't just going through the motions and was genuinely interested in talking it through and, well, I got off the phone and it was all I could do not to cry.
So it was funny when another friend told me about the crappy day she just had, one lousy thing after another. Then driving home from work, she was waiting for an opening in traffic to make a turn. A stranger stopped, smiled, and waved her through. And she burst into tears.
To me, it validates why it's worth to making an extra effort when we can to do those little "pay it forward" gestures for other people-- not just go through the motions, but take it beyond.
You just might make someone cry. In a good way.
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Two weeks ago, we ran a story on the date-rape drug GHB, largely focusing on teens. My column that day was about how girls going on spring break to other countries need to be aware to stay safe. Afterward, I heard from a woman who noted that boys need to think smart on spring break, too. Not only might they be victims, she said, but they also bear a responsibility to stand up to others who might try to slip GHB into a girl's drink; and to help a girl who has been given GHB.
I also heard from a woman who wanted to say that GHB isn't just a danger to teens. She was in her late 30s and newly divorced when she was out with some other women, went to a party where there were strangers, and the next thing she knew, she was in the hospital. She'd been raped.
"It just needs to be said that older women are victims, too," she said.
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