Kindness is Kindness in Any Language

Recently, while attending a reading at the McNally Robinson Booksellers, I had a chance encounter with someone whose parents we remember well from our time in the Democratic Republic of Congo (formerly Zaire). He told me that his father had written a memoir. I was not aware of this and asked if there were still any copies available. The following week I found the book in my church mailbox. Eagerly I began to read In Search of Identity: The Life and Times of Peter J. Kroeker. A large section of the book describes the family's work in Africa. Since their time overlapped with ours, I found this part of Peter's memoir especially intriguing. What I remember most about Peter and Ruth is their kindness and gentleness, particularly toward the Congolese, and how perturbed they were when they saw other expatriates treating the nationals in a demeaning manner.

Peter and Ruth Kroeker and their younger children (1971)

One example of their kindness is described in the book. The home in which the Kroeker family lived during their time in Congo was situated next to a warehouse which was guarded by a Congolese watchman day and night. He had his own little hut on the premises. Every night Ruth would bring him a plate of food and he was very grateful. One day Ruth went to the market to buy bananas. Just as she was about to pay for them, someone behind her handed her some coins. It was the night watchman. Another time he brought a fresh pineapple to their home. Ruth did not refuse these gifts as she realized the value of reciprocal giving. The night watchman and Ruth did not know each other's language; their common language was kindness. As her son Mark writes in the memoir, "Kindness is kindness in any language."

This story reminded me of an experience I had in our first years in Congo. We lived on the second floor of a two-storey apartment building on the main street of the provincial town of Kikwit. Below us was the mission bookstore and the Bible translation office where my husband worked with his team of translators. The children and I spent a lot of time on our balcony, where we had a good view of the busy life below. Every morning we saw a young boy heading toward the translation office. He had only one leg and used a stick to propel himself along. At the office my husband would give him a coin and he would head off toward the bakery to buy himself a baguette; it was his one sure meal of the day.

One day I was busy with the baby when I noticed my two-year-old daughter was missing. I looked everywhere in the apartment and couldn't find her. Could she have slipped out the door and down the stairs unnoticed? She would have to maneuver quite a few steps. Glancing down from the balcony, I couldn't believe my eyes. There on the sidewalk, in front of my husband's office, sat the young boy with the baguette. Beside him was our little girl and in her pudgy hands she held half of the baguette. Both were munching away, eating their breakfast and enjoying each other's company. That young boy taught me something about generosity. We gave from our plenty; he gave from the little he had, probably his only meal of the day!

We don't always realize how far-reaching a small act of kindness can be. This became evident to us just recently. We received an e-mail from a person we had not heard from for over twenty years. Kanga was a Congolese teenager who liked to hang out at our house. He came almost every day for several years. He was eager to help with chores such as gardening, building a tree house for the girls, running errands, etc. We assisted him in small ways with food, a daily shower, and other needs he might have.

In his e-mail, Kanga thanked us profusely for what we had done for him. He told us that, because he had spent so much time with us, he had had the opportunity to learn English. (I never heard him speak a word of English, neither did he ever request an English lesson from me!) Following our return to Canada, he applied to work at the American School of Kinshasa (TASOK) and was accepted because of his English skills. He went on to get a teaching degree and was hired by expatriates from India and Pakistan. He credited us for his success in life. We had no idea!

Looking back at my own life, I recognize simple acts of kindness that made a big difference to my well-being. As new immigrants to Canada, my parents worked hard to feed and clothe their eight children. My father worked nights at a dairy and we had no vehicle. Winters were very cold and we had a half-hour walk to school.

Our neighbours offered us a ride to school. Whenever the temperatures dipped below zero, four of us went to their house and stood in the hallway waiting until they had finished their breakfast; then we crowded into their car, almost on top of each other. Their kitchen, with its combination of cigarette smoke and pancakes and bacon, smelled nothing like our house!  [I didn't know moms were allowed to smoke, and at our house we always had porridge for breakfast. Pancakes were for lunch or supper and, on the rare occasion that we had meat other than liver, it would have been for Sunday dinner!]

Another family, who did not even live in town, offered us a ride to church every Sunday and sometimes my sister and I were invited to their house on the farm after church. We got a ride back with them in time for evening services. We felt so privileged to be part of their lives. Their farm house was probably quite ordinary but to us it seemed rich and beautiful. Their daughter had a bedroom all to herself and she had so many toys! And for evening snack we had hot chocolate with marshmallows!

The customs and habits of these Canadians were different from ours, but it was their kindness that remains with me. 

The Syrian refugee crisis we hear about in the news these days brings with it so much sadness and heartache. It is easy to become overwhelmed, to throw up our hands and say, "What can we possibly do in the face of such calamitous events?" 

Mother Theresa says it well: "Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love."