Tissues Speak Louder Than Words

It was dark in Paris on that particular night. The fight was the worst one to date. I can attest to the statement that nobody wins in a wine-induced argument. Our very first night in Paris, and look at what we had gotten ourselves into.

It was as if the alcohol morphed him into someone completely different, someone unrecognizable to me. Although it wasn’t the first time I had witnessed this transformation, it was still shocking each time. The words said to me that night — of which don’t need repeating — would anger me whenever I thought about them. They reminded me of how much better I deserved and how blind I was at the time to that fact.

However, the reason I bring up this unsavory night is this: I experienced firsthand just how kind strangers can be to other strangers in need. And I feel compelled to share my simple story with you.

He had stormed off, drunk as hell. I, tears unyieldingly pouring from my eyes, walked myself down the street. It was almost eleven o’clock at night and the streets of Paris were almost all asleep. I was exhausted from the nearly two hours of senseless fighting, relentless crying, and stupidity that had caused this situation in the first place, so I plopped myself down on the sidewalk. Nobody was around — good. I didn’t want to cry in front of any French strangers.

I managed to calm down for a moment. Not knowing what else to do, I called my best friend back in California. I could tell she was surprised to see that I was calling while abroad. As I explained the situation to her, the tears came back. I was furious that he had “ruined this entire trip” and was hurt by all the untrue, selfish things he had said to me. My best friend listened to my woes and was there for me, as she always is. For this, I will always be grateful.

In the midst of my snot-faced moment of weakness, I looked up from where I was sitting to see a black car come to a stop in the middle of the street. Beneath the streetlights, I saw a man get out. He seemed to be walking towards me. Is he coming over here? He was getting closer, still. Yeah, he’s definitely looking right at me, I thought. Now he was right in front of me, and had squatted down so that we were at eye level.

In his hand, he held a small packet of tissues. He said something to me in French, and I can only assume it was something along the lines of, “Are you okay?” as he held out his hand to give me the tissues.

Phone up to my ear in one hand, I looked down at the tissues that were now in the palm of my other. For a moment, I was speechless. I looked back at him and all I was able to say was, “Merci, merci beaucoup.”

He smiled at me. I smiled at him. He nodded, stood up, and walked back to his car. He waved goodbye before getting in and driving away. I waved back. I took out a few of the tissues in the packet, suddenly realizing just how much I was in need of them. I put the rest of them in my purse.

I will never ever forget this moment for as long as I live. In the brief, barely thirty-second interaction that we had, that man touched my heart in a very special way. Even now as I write this, I still tear up. He saw a young woman crying on a sidewalk late at night, and actually stopped to help her in the best way that he could.

Fast forward to about a week and a half later. I was at the Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, standing in the security line getting ready to go back to the States. The woman that managed the line was very friendly, and I talked to her for a few minutes as I waited. She kept sneezing. She apologized for her sneezes, mentioning that she was sick the past couple of days. She sneezed some more, and it looked like she really needed some tissues.

I had suddenly remembered what was now buried at the bottom of my purse. I jumped up when I realized it and told her, “Hold on, I actually have some tissues for you!”

As I dug through my purse to get the packet of tissues, I thought of that Frenchman, and gave him one last silent “merci beaucoup.” His one act of kindness helped me in my time of need, and now I was able to pass it on to someone else in their time of need.

I gave her the tissues. She was extremely thankful. I recognized her reaction, because it was exactly how I felt a week and a half earlier. Leaving the tissues behind, I said goodbye and went on my way.

I suppose I will end my story on a poetic note. I find it truly incredible that a Frenchman from Paris was able to impact a woman from California with a simple packet of tissues, who was then in turn able to be of service to a woman in Amsterdam.

Acts of kindness are contagious, and that is such a beautiful concept. The entire situation was magical to me, and upon reflecting on that trip, I was actually really glad I was stuck in that fight. Otherwise, none of this would have ever happened.

When you go out into the world with kindness and curiosity, it will find its way back to you.

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