Kindness

A Name Worth Living

There was an old man named Kindness who lived down an alley across from the sea. The children often ran by his small hut and called out, "dirty old man." Kindness's home was not grand like theirs, but it was clean and filled with love.

Passersby would look at Kindness with scorn when he walked by. Kindness's clothes were ragged and old, but they were always clean and pressed.

One day, one of the neighborhood children sat near Kindness's hut and cried.

"What's the matter, poor boy?" asked Kindness.

"My brothers and sisters make fun of me all the time," he replied, sobbing.

"I see," said the old man, taking a closer look at the boy. "I think I recognize you. You are one of the boys who called me a dirty old man the other day."

The boy looked away shyly. "Yes, that was me," the boy admitted. "I'm sorry."

"It is okay," replied Kindness. "I was like you when I was your age. I made fun of others too. Maybe one day young boys and girls will call you a dirty old man," laughed Kindness.

The boy giggled and looked into Kindness's eyes.

The old man's eyes sparkled just like the sea. "I have a cure for your sadness."

"What is it?" asked the boy, his eyes growing wide as sea shells.

"It is the same cure that was given to me long, long ago."

The boy scrunched his nose, peering at him curiously.

"I am going to give you a nickname," smiled the old man with the brightest smile the boy had ever seen.

"From now on, you will have a name just like me."

The old man tapped the boy gently on the tip of his nose with his long finger. "Kindness," he declared.

Kindness.

A story by Pemba Umoja