Weekly Karma #6
I should have taken a photo of Andrew, belly down on the ground, as he worked on the sewer grate. I didn't. So I took a picture of these cute dogs instead.
I was with my friend Stacy in Madison Square Park in Manhattan when a young man—a kid, really—walked up to me and asked me to donate to some sort of youth league. He was wearing a baseball cap on sideways and jean shorts that sagged half way down his rear.
He flashed me his best smile and gave me his best puppy dog eyes, too. He really worked it. I only had $2 in my wallet and, due to my Karma Project, this $2 was destined to go to this kid, no matter how he answered a series of questions I was about to ask. After all, my rule is that I give my spare bills to one person whenever I’m in the City, and they go to the one person who asks me for them first.
This kid had been lucky enough to ask first, but he was unlucky enough to ask after a cabbie had cleaned me out of the rest of my cash.
Still, before handing over the paltry sum, I wanted to know more.
“What exactly does the youth league do with this money?”
“Uh, you know, Gatorade.”
“What do you mean by Gatorade?”
“Like the kids get Gatorade before their basketball games. Gatorade and snacks and stuff like that.”
“How do I know you aren’t just going to pocket what I give you and buy your own Gatorade and snacks with it?”
He held out an ID card that had his name, photo and some sort of youth league title. I figured he could have made this card with your random old computer and a laminator, but I reached into my purse and gave him my $2 anyway. That’s when he said, “Oh man! Oh no! I can’t believe I just did that! What am I going to do?!”
Apparently my line of questioning had rattled him and he’d accidentally dropped his ID card into a sewer, one that was covered with a grate that looked as if it weighed 150 pounds and had not been moved in 600 years.
They really are cute, aren't they?
He paced back and forth as he muttered, “I am in so much trouble. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?”
“Call the fire department,” I suggested.
“What? The fire department? What are they going to do?”
“They get cats out of trees. I bet they can open sewers, too,” I said.
“Nah,” he said.
“Look, there has to be someone in charge of maintaining this park, someone who can open the sewer grate for you.”
“You think they are really going to help me?” he said, pointing toward himself as he raised an eyebrow. Understood between the lines was that a nice dressed white woman like myself might be able to get a park employee to crawl down into the sewer to get an ID card, but an African American kid in a ball cap and baggy jean shorts wasn’t even going to get eye contact.
Well, let me tell you. As soon as he said that, I took it on as my personal mission to make sure he got his ID card back.
“Ask the park guy. Give him the puppy dog eyes you just gave me when you asked me for my money. Come on, you can do this. You’ve been walking around this park all day asking people for their money. You can walk up to this parks guy and ask him to help you get your ID out of the sewer. And if he turns you down, come back here and let me know and I’ll help you.”
I really wasn’t sure what the heck I was going to do if the parks guy turned down my young friend. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with that scenario.
Next thing I knew, the young kid was skipping back to me with a big smile on his face. Right behind him was a lanky maintenance worker who looked as if he’d just stepped off a farm in Middle America.
This corn fed farm boy pulled out all sorts of tools. He got on the ground and he went to work. He sweated as he chiseled years of hardened grime off the sewer grate bolt. He worked and he worked at turning the bolt, which was misshapen into something resembling a dirty metal taco.
Another maintenance guy came over to watch.
A small crowd gathered.
“I don’t know. It’s not looking good for you,” I said as the worker continually tried and failed to pry the bolt out of the grate.
But the worker was not to be deterred. He worked on that bolt as if a small baby’s life depended on him opening this grate.
And eventually he got the bolt out.
We all clapped, but the hard work was still ahead of him. Now he had to hoist the grate off the sewer opening. As he did so, I could almost see the joints in his spine moving out of alignment.
“You’re going to need a massage after this,” I said.
“I already needed a massage before I did this,” he mumbled.
But he did it. He got the ID. He handed it to the kid. The kid nearly jumped up and down.
I said to the maintenance worker, “Thanks for doing that. I don’t know if you realize the magnitude of the good deed you just did. You just proved to this kid that most people really are good people. He did not believe that until today. You really did a good thing.”
He looked at me and he smiled the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen and he said, “This was the best part of my whole day.” And in his tone of voice, I could tell that the rest of his day had not been all that good.
I learned that most of his day had revolved around him picking up trash that had been left by other park goers. It had also centered on him trying to bring various flowers and plants back to life after various park goers had trampled them. This maintenance worker had a degree in landscaping and he also had a love of plant life. He took it as a personal insult when people disrespected the plant life at the park. It wounded him.
“Really? This was the best part? Of your entire day?”
“Yes, it’s a joy to make someone else happy,” he said.
I thought about just how true his words were.
And I also thought that I should get this guy’s name and that I should write about him. So I did and I have. His is Andrew Thigpen. If you happen to be in Madison Square Park in Manhattan, look for him. Thank him, and pick up any trash you see. He deserves that. And let it be known to the person who supervises Andrew Thigpen: This young man deserves a raise.
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{ 22 comments… read them below or add one }
Great story! I love this.
awesome story.
So when are you going to move to the City? You seem to be there quite often.
I know–and I get all my best material there, too. It’s a great place for a writer! But too expensive for a family. So I just come in for work stuff and then go back to the burbs, where everything costs less!
That is a great story. I hope someone points it out to his supervisor!
I love so much how you told this story, and I was sitting right next to you when it happened.
Sometimes it’s the little gestures that really make our day, not unlike that time your husband updated on the child accident victim. Great story!
Great story…always nice to hear about someone doing something nice for someonr elsse instead of all the bad news. Thanks for sharing it@
Warms my heart, too. Thanks.
I absolutely will go downtown and look for him! I’m excited.
I dropped my wallet on the street once and didn’t notice. Before I had even gotten home, my cousin sent me a text message that said someone had facebooked her and they had my wallet–they couldn’t find my information, so they sent out notes to several of my relatives (my last name is pretty long and not too common) asking if they knew me and how they could get ahold of me. When I called these amazing strangers, we ended up talking, and I told them how I was graduating and moving and it was a crazy and difficult week, and was so grateful that they were more on top of my things than I was; when I got my wallet from them, I didn’t realize until I got home, but they had left a $100 giftcard to the nearby grocery store with a note saying “Good luck with the moving process! Hope this helps.”
New Yorkers are pretty great people (both natives and migrants), not too polite, but they seem to come through when it counts.
this was an awesome story also….it always surprises me, the kindness of people…. Its great to see some good in the world.
What a great story. If everyone did one act of kindness to a stranger everyday, think of what a world we would have. : )
This story gave me cold chills. Such a great one. A round of applause for Andrew Thigpen!
Fantastic story and all because someone (you) took the time to care about a stranger. We all have the power to make someone’s day better. Often all it takes is a smile. The real benefit is if we make the time to make those closest to us feel better too.
What a great (and inspiring) story. Actually brought tears to my eyes. Its amazing what a little kindness and giving someone the time of day can do!
AWESOME Alisa…YOU ROCK
It’s not just Andrew who did a good deed, you know…I hope you take some credit, too. It wouldn’t have happened w/out you. It’s so nice to hear a story where good things happen for a change and people are actually helpful and willing to reach out.
This is what I’m trying to teach my kids! Don’t underestimate the value of kindness. Even just being polite makes the world a better place. Thanks for the story.
I just read your book and found it very inspirational. Too many of slide down the slope of negativity. Climbing back up is really worth the effort.
And the valuable lesson you taught that young man probably won’t soon be forgotten, either.
Loved this story, hope you keep track of Andrew to see if his good karma is rewarded down the track.
I often forget how easy it is to make someone else’s day just by telling them when they have been the best part of my day. I’m going to try to remember to do that more, in honor of Mr. Thigpen.
Wow so many amazing things came out of this one situation….Can you imagine how many people benefited from this one event.
Yes, yes, yes, YES! LOVE this story, on so many levels. Thanks for sharing!