Kindness Carousel

Sometimes the kindness of strangers makes a difference.

It was early in the day, and there were lines of people coming in to park in the lots surrounding Historic Smithville. Most stores were still closed, so we thought we'd take the kids to the carousel first. They're young, and at that perfect age where riding the horses is still magical.

We were in line, tickets in hand, and the attendant was readying the place to open. It was quiet, we were all waiting, and then she flipped the sign and opened the gate. Kids surged forward eagerly, and us adult parent-like types followed our charges at a more sedate pace. The attendant collected our tickets like the seasoned pro she was.

You could see her counting under her breath, and she was about to reach twenty. The twentieth was a little girl, bouncy bouncy bounce, and her mom was behind her. Mom wouldn't have a spot on the twenty-seat carousel, so she closed the gate with a smile and a “You're first for the next one!” remark, before turning to operate the ride.

Oh dear.

You could see the slow-motion emotions travel like waves across the little girl's face. Confusion, fear, consternation, frustration, anger, even betrayal, and then that scrunchy face and we all knew what was about to happen, and no matter that Momma was already soothing, saying, “But, honey, you'll have first pick! You'll be first for the next ride!” The girl was gasping, drawing in lungfuls of air for the screeching wail that would accompany the carousel's calliope, just beginning to start up, almost in synch, and we parents braced for the increase in audio assault, stiffening and hoping our own kids didn't add to the cacophony-

But just at the first wails started, this couple appeared.

Well, the lady did. Well into middle age, and “pleasingly plump,” but in a jolly Mrs. Santa Claus way. She retraced a few steps, and her confused husband followed. They'd been walking by on their own errands, but she'd spun around when the child-siren first wound up. How could she help? She had a look on her face, like she suddenly knew exactly what to do...

And surprisingly, bounced up to the little girl on the other side of the barrier. “Hi, that looks like fun! Do you mind if I try it?” And before the girl could comprehend what this grandmother-type would do, the woman immediately started flapping her arms, hopping on the balls of her feet, and wailing like a cartoon opera singer. “Waaah-aaah-aaAAAAhhhh-aaaaah!! Waaah-aaah-aaAAAAhhhh-aaaaah!!”

Stopped the kid dead cold in mid-tantrum!

And just as suddenly, the lady stopped, put her hand to her heart, and made a little sigh of satisfaction. “You're right, that did feel good! Thank you!” And off she bounded, bemused husband following, and the rest of us grinning like silly people. Crisis averted! Poor kidlet was so confused, she forgot why she'd been upset.

Momma just looked relieved, and would have mouthed thank you had the couple stayed. But they were gone, off on their own adventures.

And the ride slowed, and stopped, and emptied, and we got on. That little girl got her first pick as promised, and I wonder if she even remembered the circumstances that caused the incipient conniption, or even the people that created a conniptus interruptus. But the parents remembered, even as our kids whirled round and round, and I saw a bunch of phones out, and parents furiously texting. Or posting on social sites, as I was.

We talk so much about Stranger Danger, and that lady looked to be of an age that grew up in the middle of it. We talk so little about Stranger Assistance, like a greater extension of the “it takes a village” philosophy we lost when we moved away from home towns, even if there were good reasons for the move.

I wonder if she'd done it before. I wonder if she had kids, grandkids? Had she done it to them? A neighbor? How could something look so practiced, but yet so spur-of-the-moment? She'd been walking by, and turned back to help. So many of us move on, telling ourselves that it's none of our business,and we'd likely get yelled at anyway for trying to calm down someone else's kid.

And to do it without threats or intimidation, just gentle distraction. Dang.

You bet I was taking notes.

And I wasn't the only one.

Then I went back to enjoying a carousel ride on a fine day, with my kiddos, living in the moment.