I Was So Ill Walking Was Impossible When a Man Essentially Lifted Me to a Restroom.

During my nineteenth year, my daily commute was on an express bus. The vehicle was always crowded and would always be standing room only once I got on.

On one specific day, I was feeling incredibly sick when the coach swayed around each corner. I kept telling myself to endure just a little longer before the bus got to my stop, at which point I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient public restroom to be sick.

The bus was approaching the road leading to the stop when it dawned on me I was unable to hold on. In an instant, it seemed a veil came over me. The world became hazy and muffled; as if someone turned off the audio. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.

Fortunately, I stood close to the driver of the bus, so I took a couple of steps to ask the driver and asked the driver to stop, telling him that I was about to be sick. The driver opened the entrance and I stumbled out onto the sidewalk.

My intention was to avoid being sick before a busy multi-lane road, so I picked myself up and endeavored to stumble across to the park opposite the street, where I believed I could at least discreetly hide among some shrubs to be sick. But then I apparently lost consciousness. I sensed my limbs, but I was unable to walk or see clearly, so I started dragging myself toward my intended destination.

“Everything alright, love?”

Right then, I was lifted up. I sensed a strong arm supporting me and a man’s voice asked, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I needed to be sick. So he virtually supported my weight into an adjacent building and guided me into the female bathroom. He wanted to know if I wanted him to remain with me but I declined.

Not long after, I regained my composure enough to sit on the toilet when from beyond the door came him inquire, “Are you feeling better, dear? Do you need anything?” I could not to stand up right away but did manage to say thank you and following a brief period was able to move my legs. I made my way home and then spent the next few days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I did not see his features – only his legs along with a sizable steelwork tools container he had with him – but he helped me, during a time when I was at my most vulnerable.

Frequently, society can make you guarded, hostile, and combative. His act was the type of kindness that undoes that hardening of the heart. He demonstrated that our default setting leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish in other people.