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children look forward, adults look around, elders look back

     looking back, I remember a long-forgotten accident I had. While riding my bicycle with no hands, I closed my eyes, daring myself forward, as children are prone to do. I crashed into a parked car along the road putting a gash in my thumb. I sat on the curb of the street bleeding profusely, eyes welling up, not only from the sting of pain, but from my embarrassment. I was cognizant of having done something, which, in hindsight, I recognized as foolish and dangerous.
     Dictionary’s provide precise definitions for words, but, until they become experiences, there is no context. I now had context for both pain and foolishness, a knowledge which was to be reinforced many times throughout my life. 
     An old lady who witnessed my misfortune came to my aid by calling me over to her back door. She gently put my wound under her kitchen faucet and applied iodine and a bandaid. Embarrassed, I thanked her and quickly left. I returned to my bicycle, decidedly wiser, and continued my journey to the park, to finish my day in play. 
I did not revisit this incident for sixty years. 
     Now I look at my aged hand and, amongst the wrinkles and age spots, I can no longer find the scar. What I remember though, is the resiliency of my youth. How I quickly moved onward with eyes forward, carrying that great innate ability, almost a hunger, to explore the unknowns of the world. Such curiosity is a characteristic found in every child and should be preserved and cherished throughout life.
     There is something else that is special about this memory. It was that act of kindness which only now occurs to me. I would like to say it flowered in me and developed into 
“the art of kindness”, but that would be untrue. Sadly, it was instead overlooked entirely, being instead, overshadowed by my youthful eagerness to ‘get on with life’.  
     It is only now, nearly sixty years later, that I arrive at the importance of that act. As I reflect on this small, nearly overlooked, incident, I find my tears again flowing through me as they did on that day. This time they are not from pain or embarrassment, they are from regret. For I did not learn the lesson of kindness presented to me that day. Yes, it is correct to use the word presented, as in ‘present’, for each act of kindness is a gift. I failed to acknowledge my gift that day and so, today it resurfaces to remind me again of its continued presence as well as all the missed opportunities in my life where I could have applied it to others If only I had been more aware. Kindness, It turns out, is one of the many addictions in life I wish I had acquired.
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