The Golden Rule: To Hold A Stranger

I just want to start off by saying I am a broken and flawed person. I know this, you know this, and you know you are too. I have hurt people in my past and I am sure I will hurt people in my future, but lately, I have been thinking a lot about the Golden Rule. You know, the one that goes "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Or what my mom always told me as a kid..."Treat others the way you want to be treated." This idea, this guideline, is so simple, yet easily forgotten in the rush of the day. This is not a lecture on how to be a better, more thoughtful person, this is just a reminder. A reminder that we all carry burdens and that we are more similar than we think.

I have had many conversations lately about the Golden Rule, or at least just being a decent human being, which brings me to the reason why I am sharing all this. I want to talk about an instance that happened this week where I applied the Golden Rule. Not to be boastful, but just to shed some light on how important this rule really is to growing and connections with others.

So I was in the vets office during a day of errands and was waiting at the counter for the receptionist. While waiting, a woman walked out of one of the rooms. She was petite, probably in her fifties, wearing a pair of rectangular-framed glasses which complimented her square face and mid-length bob. She started sniffling as she walked into the waiting room and I asked if she was all right, knowing full well what had just happened. In a soft, vulnerable voice she told me she just put her dog down; I immediately asked if I could hug her. This woman who didn't know me at all walked straight into my arms, without hesitation. I held her for a good three minutes as she cried. I could feel her small body weaken in my arms. At that moment her sadness became a shared sadness. Then the receptionist arrived and the woman sat down. Before I left, I turned around to check on her and almost said, "I hope you have a better day." But that didn't seem to make sense in the moment, and luckily the rest of that sentence didn't come out of my mouth. Instead, I said, "I hope...I will be thinking of you today." And I did. I thought about her all day. I thought about her being alone in this situation, about leaving the vets office and driving home, about walking through her front door expecting to see her dog out of habit just for him to not be there. The faint smell of her perfume and cigarette smoke lingered on my sweater all day. I felt lucky to have been there, to have treated this woman as I would hope someone else in that situation would have treated me.

I also thought about my dogs all day, how happy they always are to see us, even on our worst days. I felt incredibly lucky knowing they were home to welcome me. And that the Golden Rule, in a way, is ingrained in them. They love us unconditionally.

It's simple, yes. Is it always easy, no. But it makes a difference.