M.J. Ryan is an inspirational speaker and human development expoert, and author of several bestselling books including This Year I Will…, The Happiness Makeover: How to Teach Yourself to Be Happy and Enjoy Every Day and Attitudes of Gratitude. She lives in the San Francisco Bay area with her family.

CHAPTER 1

Roadside Angels

STORIES OF KINDNESS FROM THE ROAD AND ABROAD

The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention.

—Oscar Wilde

A Hundred-Dollar Bill

I arrived at the airport in Pullman, Washington, excited about my approachinginterview for admission to the University of Washington's veterinary school. Iwent directly to the rental car agency to pick up my car, only to find, to mydisbelief and horror, that my credit card had been declined and I had no othermeans of payment.

I ran to the pay phone and called my roommate back in California. I was tryingto explain what had happened in between hysterical sobs, when a man walked up tome, tapped me on the shoulder, handed me a one hundred dollar bill, and walkedaway. Thanks to the generous compassion of a total stranger I made the interviewon time and was accepted into the veterinary school.

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A Missed Bus

One year when I was away at school I had gone to the Greyhound bus depot tocatch a bus home for Christmas break. I looked all over for the right bus, butnone of the buses lined up at the terminal had my destination on them. As I wasstanding there trying to figure out where my bus was, one pulled out and thedriver changed the sign as he was leaving—to exactly where I wanted to go. Istood there watching my bus disappear down the highway; I must have been visiblyupset because a woman came over, took my arm, and led me to the street. Shehailed a taxicab, gave the driver a five-dollar bill, and told him to get meover to the ferry dock quickly, because the bus made a stop there before headingout onto the highway. She wished me a Merry Christmas, and all I could do wassmile.

No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.

—Charles Dickens

Ah, Bambini!

My husband and I were traveling in Italy with two small babies and an au pair.We would trade sightseeing time with the au pair so we could all visit therequisite churches and museums. But on this day we took the babies along, sincewe only had one day to go to Assisi and all of us urgently wanted to see it. Themorning was wonderful—feeling like happy pilgrims, we read each other storiesof St. Francis while the babies cooed and gurgled as we drove up the windingstreets.

But by the end of a very hot day traipsing up and down hills in the ninety-degreeItalian sun, the kids were crying nonstop. One was throwing up; the otherhad diarrhea. We were all irritable and exhausted, and we had a three-hour tripahead of us to get back to Florence, where we were staying. Somewhere on theplains of Perugia we stopped at a little trattoria to have dinner.

Embarrassed at our bedraggled state and our smelly, noisy children, wesheepishly tried to sneak into the dining room, hoping we could silence thechildren long enough to order before they threw us out. The proprietor took onelook at us, muttered "You wait-a here," and went back to the kitchen. We thoughtperhaps we should leave right then, but before we could decide what to do, hereappeared with his wife and teenage daughter. Crossing the dining room beaming,the two women threw out their arms, cried, "Ah, bambini!" and took the childrenfrom our arms, motioning us to sit at a quiet corner table. For the duration ofa long and hospitable dinner, they walked the babies back and forth in the backof the dining room, cooing, laughing, and singing them to sleep in gentle,musical Italian. The proprietor even insisted we stay and have an extra glass ofwine after the babies were asleep! Any parent who has reached the end of his orher rope with an infant will agree that God had indeed sent us angels that day.

If you want happiness for an hour—take a nap.If you want happiness for a day—go fishing.If you want happiness for a month—get married.If you want happiness for a year—inherit a fortune.If you want happiness for a lifetime—help someone else.

—Chinese proverb

Two Flat Tires

I used to make an eighty-mile drive to visit my parents, and there's a fortymilestretch of the road that's in the middle of nowhere. One day as I wasdriving alone along this barren patch, I saw a family on the side of the roadwith a flat tire. Normally I do not stop in such situations, but for some reasonI felt the need to do so that day. The family was very relieved when Ivolunteered to drive them to a gas station about ten miles down the road to gethelp. I left them at the station because the attendant said he would take themback to their car and drove on my way. About twelve miles later, I had ablowout. Since I couldn't change the tire myself, I was stranded and not surewhat to do. But in only about ten minutes a car came along and pulled over tooffer help. It was the same family I had stopped for earlier that day!

We realize that what we are accomplishing is a drop in the ocean.But if this drop were not in the ocean, it would be missed.

—Mother Teresa

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I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhereand don't notice it.

—Alice Walker

The Carpet Sellers of Kathmandu

After a trek to Mount Everest, I found myself in a rug shop in Kathmanduconsidering buying a carpet.

I had entered to big smiles and choruses of "Welcome, my sister!" from theproprietors, a pair of brothers from Kashmir named Qayoom and Yousef. Afterintroductions and handshaking all around, I was offered a seat and something todrink. At first I declined, but Qayoom insisted, so I asked for black tea. Hesaid something in a language I couldn't recognize to an old man with half-closedeyes who stepped outside to fetch our drinks.

Qayoom lived with Yousef's family in four rented rooms in a quiet section oftown. The old man lived with them. They had found him drunk and living on thestreets, and, as good Muslims, they felt it was their duty to help. So theyoffered him a job on the condition that he quit or at least cut back. The oldman took a new name, Surkedai, which translates to "Happy Man." He used to be"one hundred percent bad" when it came to alcohol, said Yousef. Now he is"eighty percent good and only twenty percent bad." In return Surkedai fetchesdrinks for customers, dusts the shelves of small knickknacks in the front roomof the shop, walks the twenty minutes back to the house to bring lunch each day,and rerolls the carpets that customers aren't interested in.

This old man, whose wife and family abandoned him to the gutter because of hisdrinking problem, now has a place to sleep, a small wage, and people who careabout...