How many times do you walk past people and never even acknowledge them? Or worse, make a rude gesture because they cut in front of you in the Starbucks line or stepped into the elevator before letting others get out?

And why would you even bother acknowledging anyone anyway? Most of the time, people have their faces buried in their phones or their AirPods tucked in tightly, listening to the latest true crime podcast.

Have we become so absorbed in ourselves that we’ve forgotten what it means to be kind to one another?

I’ve always had an empathetic side as far back as I can remember. When I was in elementary school, my best friend Jeff Tubberville had a stutter. I still remember his mom telling me how much she appreciated our friendship. She would say, “When Jeff is with you, he stutters less because you make him calm.”

Several years ago, I was in line at Home Depot with a good friend. As is often the case, I struck up a conversation with the cashier and asked how she was doing. And not in that passing, polite way where you expect a quick “fine,” but in a way that showed I genuinely wanted to know. She told me she wasn’t doing great. I don’t even remember why but that’s not the point. What stuck with me was what happened next.

As we were leaving, my friend turned to me and said, “Why do you ask people things like that when you don’t really care?”

I was stunned.

“What do you mean? I really do care.”

Since 2020, it feels like the world has gotten meaner. COVID drew lines – mask or no mask, vaccine or no vaccine. Politics have divided families to the point where some don’t gather at Thanksgiving anymore because of decisions made at the ballot box. Social media has amplified our differences and given us the courage of a keyboard to say things we would never say face-to-face.

When I think about the difference between being an angry, mean person and being kind and caring, it just seems so much easier to choose kindness and a whole lot less stressful.

This morning, as I was heading back from an F3 workout in Charlotte, I was reminded of that. When I left the hotel at 5AM, I forgot to validate my parking ticket and ended up paying $60 to get out of the garage. As someone just starting a new business, that stings.

When I walked back into the hotel lobby, I was greeted by Davion, who welcomed me with a genuine smile. I explained the situation, and he nodded. Clearly I wasn’t the first person this had happened to and assured me he’d take care of it. Relief washed over me, and I headed to grab some breakfast.

As I walked into the lounge, I was amazed by what I saw: a make-your-own egg sandwich station, a waffle maker, and, my personal favorite, a fresh yogurt dispenser. Think soft-serve ice cream, but yogurt.

It was while I was standing there, completely fascinated by the yogurt machine, that I met Susan.

She thought I was having trouble with it. In reality, I was just so intrigued that I had taken a video to send to my daughter. I complimented her on the setup, especially for a complimentary breakfast at a limited-service property. This was one of Hilton’s newer Home2Suites locations, and I had booked it randomly.

Let me tell you about Susan.

She understands hospitality.

She had the warmest smile and the sweetest voice. Every guest was welcomed and made to feel at home. I overheard her telling a coworker that she sometimes puts out extra items for guests. At one point, she mentioned she was a little embarrassed that her apron was dirty. I told her I never trust skinny chefs or ones with clean aprons. She laughed.

As I waited for my toast, we talked. I asked how long she had been working there. She carried herself like a seasoned professional. She shared that the job had originally been part-time. It was just something to earn a little extra money for her and her husband. But recently, she had gone full-time.

Her husband had passed away unexpectedly four months ago.

About that time, my toast popped up but I had to know more. How could someone be so joyful, so warm, so genuinely kind after such a loss?

I leaned in.

“Susan, I’m so sorry. Was it sudden?”

She paused, took a breath, and shared that they were on a trip celebrating their 40th anniversary when he had a heart attack on the first night.

I later learned she has six children and twenty grandchildren and was heading into a weekend celebrating one of their 18th birthdays.

I told Susan I would be praying for her and promised to leave a great Google review. What I didn’t tell her was that I plan to call the general manager and let them know what an incredible person they have on their team.

And it made me think. How hard was that?

Would it have been easier to come downstairs with my AirPods in, ignore everyone, grab breakfast, and sit alone?

Sure.

But what’s the joy in that?

I treasure every Jeff and every Susan I encounter. Even if I never see them again. If I can leave a little kindness behind, then maybe I’ve made the world just a bit better.

So look up from your phone once in a while. Smile at someone in the doctor’s office. Say hello in the elevator. Start a conversation.

You might find that the gift you’re giving is the very one you receive.