In Such Poor Health Walking Was Impossible When a Man Practically Supported Me to the Toilets.
Back when I was nineteenth year, my regular journey to work involved an express bus. The vehicle was always full and was consistently completely full by the time I stepped aboard.
One particular morning, I began feeling quite nauseous as the bus lurched around each corner. I kept telling myself to hold on another few kilometres so the bus could reached my stop, and then I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient public toilet to be sick.
We were coming down the street towards the stop when I realised I was unable to hold on. Suddenly, it felt as if a curtain fell over me. My vision turned hazy and muffled; similar to when one cut the sound. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.
Thankfully, I was positioned close to the driver of the bus, allowing me to take a few steps toward the driver and asked the driver to pull over, telling him that I was about to be sick. He promptly opened the entrance and I stumbled out onto the sidewalk.
I was resolved to not get sick in front of six lanes of traffic, so I forced myself up and began attempting to make my way across to the park opposite the street, where I thought I’d at least be able to find some privacy among some shrubs to be sick. But then I likely blacked out. I was aware of my physical self, yet walking was impossible and my vision was blurry, so I started dragging myself toward the grassy area.
“Are you okay, dear?”
Right then, I got scooped up. I felt someone holding me and a man’s voice asked, “Are you okay, dear?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I required to vomit. Thus, he practically supported my weight over to a nearby building and guided me inside the women’s restroom. He inquired if I needed him to wait for me but I said no.
After a short while, I felt better to the point of sitting down and from the other side of the door I heard him inquire, “Are you feeling better, dear? Do you need anything?” I could not to get up just then but I did succeed to thank him and shortly thereafter recovered the use of my legs. I got myself home and spent several days healing from what was later diagnosed as a severe stomach virus.
I never glimpsed that man’s face – only his legs and the big steelwork tools container he had with him – but he helped me, at a moment I was in my weakest state.
Many times, life can make you guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that hardening of the heart. He was proof that people’s natural inclination is to be kind, a trait I cherish about my fellow humans.
