Walking the extra mile?
Shopping Malls in the US are happening places. One can observe the flow of people for hours: shopping pros walking with their confident gait, housewives hunting for bargains and young people making a beeline for Starbucks, the Apple Store or the Multiplex Cinemas. Despite the buzz and activity, a typical American Mall is a place where one can experience crowds without losing one's equilibrium since the noise level never rises to deafening decibels. However, a visit to the Mall need not always be a mundane shopping event. It can sometimes turn into an illuminating experience, as I discovered on one of my recent visits to the Tyson's Corner Mall in Virginia.
I had gone to see a movie, but was lured into buying a coat, in preparation for the winter. Clutching my newly acquired purchase, I headed toward the cinema to watch "The Help." the newly released film, termed by many critics as this summer's sensational release. Based on a novel by Katherine Sockett, the story is set in Jackson, Mississippi in 1963. It focuses on the racial tensions between African-American maids and their white employers at the onset of the civil rights movement in the United States. The most remarkable aspect of the movie is that the main narrator, Eugenia "Skeeter" Phelan, is a young white woman who rebels against her own people and unveils the truth about the unfair treatment of African Americans working in white households. In the process Skeeter loses her fiancée and many of her "white" friends. But she remains firm in her resolve and succeeds in presenting the issue of discrimination to a white audience at a crucial time in America's social history.
As I headed home I went through some tough self-questioning about how most of us avoid difficult social challenges because we are afraid to swim against the tide. Halfway through my ride, I discovered that I had left my shopping bag with my coat at the theater. I looped back to the Mall and virtually bolted to the theater to retrieve my coat. The Theater was still empty but a quick search around my seat confirmed that the coat was gone! My next stop took me to the Mall Security in case they had received it. They had not. Dismayed, I decided to go home, when, on an impulse, I turned back and went to the store I had bought the coat from, hoping that by some miracle it was delivered there. I approached the sales assistant and said: "I bought a coat this morning but left it in the movie theater. Has anyone returned it to you, by any chance?" The assistant dived behind the counter and to my utter surprise returned with the package, as if she had pulled a rabbit out of a hat!! She explained that since the store name was on the package, two ladies had brought it back, in case the owner came looking for it. I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude toward the women who had taken the time and effort to bring back something that they thought might be important to someone. "Someone" they had never met nor were likely to ever meet.
The Good Samaritan incident turned my thoughts to the movie, which was still fresh in my mind. I asked myself, why do some people walk that extra mile to help others selflessly? I once read that there is neurological evidence that altruism stimulates parts of the brain normally associated with primal gratifications such as food or sex! Is that what motivates people like Skeeter to fight for a cause that they believe in? Or is it simply an act of kindness and compassion? And, why is it that some have a natural inclination to be more caring and selfless while others may appear to be quite untouched by human suffering?
I kept reflecting on the implications of living a self-centered or (as some would politely describe it) a detached life. True, it is less complicated and cumbersome. However, it also means that one may miss opportunities to impact the lives of others. The kindness of the two unknown women at the Mall inspired me to make a conscious decision: next time I am faced with an opportunity I will also choose to walk that extra mile! I realise that I might touch someone's life only in a miniscule way. But the slight diversion from my usual path of least resistance may mean a big leap toward a more meaningful life!
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