Dr. Howard A. Kelly is a renowned physician, surgeon, naturalist, and a humble Christian. On one of his frequent "naturalist" journeys, when he became thirsty he stopped at a farmhouse for a glass of water. A little girl came to the door, and when he asked for a glass of water she sweetly said: "I will give you a glass of milk if you wish." He drank the cool, refreshing milk heartily. On departing he said to her: "Now if you or any member of your family ever need treatment, come to my hospital, and I will treat you for nothing." The girl was thrilled at the thought of his kindness. Years later this girl's mother found it necessary to go to a hospital, and she went to Dr. Kelly's where she received personal attention. When she was ready to leave, the doctor made out a big bill for his service. At the bottom he wrote, "Paid for in full with one glass of milk."—Watchman-Examiner.
The kind of helpfulness we can show to people of other races is illustrated by the following incident. One night a Negro was walking down Forty-second Street, New York, from the depot to his hotel carrying a heavy suitcase in one hand and a heavier valise in the other. Suddenly a hand was laid upon the valise and a pleasant face of a young man looked into that of the Negro as he said: "Pretty heavy, brother; suppose you let me take one; I'm going your way." The Negro protested, but the man already had the valise, and for several blocks they walked on together, talking like cronies. "And that," said Booker T. Washington long afterward, "was the first time I ever saw Theodore Roosevelt."—Arnold's Commentary.
Let me be a little kinder, let me be a little blinder
To the faults of those about me; let me praise a little more.
Let me be, when I am weary, just a little bit more cheery;
Let me serve a little better those that I am I striving for.
Let me be a little braver, when temptation bids I me waver;
Let me strive a little harder to be all that I should be.
Let me be a little meeker with the brother that is weaker;
Let me think more of my neighbor and a little less of me.
(Eph. 4. 32; Col. 3. 12; 1 Cor. 13. 4)
Speak kindly, oh, speak kindly;
You cannot tell the worth
Of words of loving kindness
In our journey through the earth.—Ingram
A little word in kindness spoken,
A motion, or a tear,
Has often healed the heart that's broken,
And made a friend sincere.
Then deem it not an idle thing
A pleasant word to speak:
The face you wear, the thought you bring,
A heart may heal or break.—D. C. Colesworthy
Kind words do more than hard speeches, as the sunbeams, without any noise, will make the traveller cast off his cloak, which all the blustering winds could not do, but only make him bind it closer to him.—Leighton
Kindness goes a long ways lots o' times when it ought t' stay at home.—Abe Martin.
An old couple came in from the country, with a big basket of lunch, to see the circus. The lunch was heavy. The old wife was carrying it. As they crossed a street, the husband held out his hand and said, "Gimme that basket, Hannah."
The poor old woman surrendered the basket with a grateful look.
"That's real kind o' ye, Joshua," she quavered.
"Kind!" grunted the old man. "I wuz afeared ye'd git lost."
A fat woman entered a crowded street car and seizing a strap, stood directly in front of a man seated in the corner. As the car started she lunged against his newspaper and at the same time trod heavily on his toes.
As soon as he could extricate himself he rose and offered her his seat.
"You are very kind, sir," she said, panting for breath.
"Not at all, madam," he replied; "it's not kindness; it's simply self-defence."