A Tiny Act of Kindness
little things aren't so little (S/O to Patrick Bulger)
photo by Cottonbro studio. Pexels.com
This happened yesterday evening, 6/25/25.
In line at the pharmacy, an older woman, somewhere in her 70s, stood in front of me. She had a decided limp, her knee or hip, and her face was creased with stress.
“Are my meds ready?” she asked Rowan (his real name), the tech behind the counter. Rowan is about 30, I know him pretty well, and he is a righteous young man.
“I’m not sure, ma’am. I see one here, they’re doing it right now, but I don’t see anything else.”
“Well, the doctor said they’d call it in today. I’ve been to see her twice in the last week. She finally believed I was sick today,” she said.
“Well, ma’am, sometimes at big practices, all the scripts get batched together, and they’re sent over electronically at night, so that’s probably what happened,” Rowan answered.
Her jaw dropped. I could see, in the overhead mirror, her forehead crease even more deeply. She looked terrified.
“Ma’am, I do have one script, like I said, that’s almost ready. Let me write it down for you.”
He printed out something on a piece of paper and turned it to face her.
“Oh, thank god it’s for the Xanax. I’ve lost 3 friends in the last month. I don’t know how I can keep on without them.”
Rowan looked at her with so much kindness. “That’s gotta be so hard, ma’am. I’ve lost a couple friends myself in the past few years. It’s just… just… not easy. Listen, ma’am, just have a seat over there, okay, and I’ll bring your meds over to you as soon as it’s ready.”
“Thank-you. That is so nice,” she said.
“Ma’am,” he said, “can I get you anything while you wait?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine. Thank-you.”
Rowan did bring her something, though. He brought her attentiveness and kindness and compassion in a very difficult time.
My turn. I got my script, thanked Rowan for being so gentle with her, and in the car as I recounted the moment in my head, I got a little weepy.
To be a witness to such a moment, I thought. What a privilege.
