The Ripple Effect

In a dusty corner of a New York bus shelter, balanced on a small pile of leaves, sat two discarded red solo cups. “Seriously?” Jovannah grumbled. With an air of frustration, she scooped the cups up and tossed them into the rusted garbage can - which sat approximately two inches from the cup’s initial resting place. It was then that Jovannah spotted the notebook. It’s smooth black edges poked its way through the leaves much like a bulb sprouts through the ground in spring as a sign of hope and promise.

As Jovannah waited for her bus, she carefully leafed through the book’s soft pages. Besides having a small address delicately written on the inside cover, the notebook only contained line after line of hand-written signatures - all penned with unique styles and inks. There wasn’t a phone number to be had.

After some heavy thought, Jovannah concluded that what she held in her hands could only be one thing: the mafia’s hitman list! From then on, every man, woman and child that came into the bus shelter, startled her. And while her 28 year-old brain was telling her to leave the notebook and run for her life; her heart was telling her that that would be littering. And well, you know how Jovannah felt about that!

As Jovannah’s bus pulled up, she sheepishly slipped the notebook into her coat pocket - a most convenient fit, she mused. While onboard, she sat across from a man in his late 80s. She smiled at him until her eyes narrowed onto the Irish flag sewn to the lapel of his coat. Her brows furrowed. Her mind raced, “The Irish mob! The book probably has a tracking device. I’m officially doomed!” she thought. “My only option is to return this notebook before it’s too late. If I died now, all that my mother would be left with is my student debt!” She fiercely rose from her seat, giving the elderly man the ol’ ‘got my eyes on you’ hand signal before hopping off at the next stop.

“That was close!” she sighed audibly, causing those in earshot to slowly back away. Taking a final gander at the notebook, she memorized the address. “2114A - 91st Avenue. That gives me a few blocks to practice.”

Jovannah cleared her throat. “I come with no motives. I was born in March, therefore, I love the Irish! I’m no one. I know no one. I am no threat to your organization. I live alone in a closet-sized apartment with 3 cats.” Jovannah’s eyes widen as she reaches her destination. The building’s sign mystically flashes, ‘Murphy’s Law’. “I see the irony here”, she mumbles.

Inside is a brightly lit office. A receptionist on the phone holds her index finger in the air with a smile. “One second” she mouths. Jovannah nods, takes a seat and recites the Lord’s Prayer. She eyes the security camera. She stares into the lens, “I come here in peace.” The receptionist waves her hands, “Miss. Hello? Can I help you with anything?” “Yes! I found this!” Jovannah slides the notebook across the counter. The receptionist’s eyes blink slowly. She quickly scurries from out behind her desk, runs into an office and slams the door.

Jovannah plans her escape. “Bloody H - E - double hockey sticks! I’m not cut out for this!” As she places her hand on the door to leave, a slinky redhead in a casual suit firmly places her hand on top of Jovannah’s - stopping her exit. “Oh, goodness, don’t leave yet! The fun has just begun!” Jovannah tries to speak, but all her words have crawled back into her stomach. The woman smiles and firmly leads Jovannah to her office, closing the door behind her.

“My name is Sharon Murphy, founder of Murphy’s Law. I’d like to start by thanking you for returning this notebook. May I ask your name?” Jovannah blurts out her name. “What a beautiful name. Jovannah, every one of these signatures belongs to someone just like you. Strangers who’ve well, become more like family.” Jovannah fans her face with her hand, swallows audibly and signs the cross.

Sharon continues, “This notebook is filled with people who have completed a random act of kindness test I’ve named the ‘Ripple Effect’. Every one of these self-directed participants have gone out of their way to complete the good deed of returning this little black book.” Jovannah relaxes in her chair and exhales so deeply, it feathers her bangs.

“Many years ago,” Sharon began, “ I was a single mother, struggling to make ends meet. I wasn’t receiving proper child support which made things extremely difficult for my children and I. While waiting for my bus, a random stranger asked to hear about my life’s difficulties. Without much thought, he wrote me a check right then for $20,000 for me to hire a good lawyer. His only requirement was that one day I would let him know if it changed my future”.

“Not only did his investment in me help my children,” Sharon said, “it lit a spark within me to further my education to where I am today. Now I’m in a position to give back - not only through my random act of kindness project but also by me being able to represent single mothers in court. It’s been a ripple effect - all started many years ago by meeting a stranger at the bus stop.” The receptionist enters carrying two boxes, and places them on Sharon’s desk.

Sharon opens the first box and holds up a tattered black notebook. “This is the book that started it all. This is my story. And, these boxes are filled with books that have been mailed back to me.” Jovannah remains speechless - perhaps for the first time in her life. She stares at all the notebooks thinking of how each one was filled with hope (something she was longing for).

“So, Jovannah”, the receptionist grins from ear-to-ear as Sharon explains, “in appreciation for your selfless act, please accept this check in the amount of $20,000. Spend it however you wish. All I want is your signature in the notebook you found, and to one day mail me back a notebook of how this money has helped you fulfill your dreams. Don’t leave out the ripples.”