It was a beautiful day for sightseeing around downtown Portland. We were a bunch of
    counselors on our day off, away from the campers, just out for some fun. The weather
    was perfect for a picnic, so when lunch time came, we set our sights on a small park
    in town. Since we all had different cravings, we decided to split up, get what each of
    us wanted, and meet back on the grass in a few minutes. 

    When my friend Robby headed for a hot dog stand, I decided to keep her company. We
    watched the vendor put together the perfect hot dog, just the way Robby wanted it. But
    when she took out her money to pay him, the man surprised us. 

    "It looks a little on the cool side," he said, "so never mind paying me. This will be my
    freebie of the day." 

    We said our thanks, joined our friends in the park, and dug into our food. But as we
    talked and ate, I was distracted by a man sitting alone nearby, looking at us. I could
    tell that he hadn’t showered for days. Another homeless person, I thought, like all the
    others you see in cities. I didn’t pay much more attention than that. 

    We finished eating and decided to head off for more sightseeing. But when Robby and
    I went to the garbage can to throw away my lunch bag, I heard a strong voice ask,
    "There isn’t any food in the bag, is there?" 

    It was the man who had been watching us. I didn’t know what to say. "No, I ate it
    already." 

    "Oh," was his only answer, with no shame in his voice at all. He was obviously
    hungry, couldn’t bear to see anything thrown away, and was used to asking this
    question. 

    I felt bad for the man, but I didn’t know what I could do. That’s when Robby said, "I’ll
    be right back. Please wait for me for a minute," and ran off. I watched curiously as she
    went across to the hot dog stand. Then I realized what she was doing. She bought a hot
    dog, crossed back to the trash can, and gave the hungry man the food. 

    When she came back to us, Robby said simply, "I was just passing on the kindness that
    someone gave to me." 

    That day I learned how generosity can go farther than the person you give to. By
    giving, you teach others how to give also.

    I was in New York the other day and rode with a friend in a taxi.
    When we got out, my friend said to the driver, "Thank you for the
    ride. You did a superb job of driving."

    The taxi driver was stunned for a second. Then he said, "Are you a
    wise guy or something?"

    "No, my dear man, and I'm not putting you on. I admire the way you
    keep cool in heavy traffic."

    "Yeah," the driver said and drove off.

    "What was that all about?" I asked.

    I am trying to bring love back to New York," he said. "I believe it's
    the only thing that can save the city."

    "How can one man save New York?"

    "It's not one man. I believe I have made that taxi driver's day.
    Suppose he has 20 fares. He's going to be nice to those 20 fares
    because someone was nice to him. Those fares in turn will be kinder
    to their employees or shopkeepers or waiters or even their own
    families. Eventually the goodwill could spread to at least 1,000
    people. Now that isn't bad, is it?"

    "But you're depending on that taxi driver to pass your goodwill to
    others."

    "I'm not depending on it," my friend said. "I'm aware that the system
    isn't foolproof so I might deal with ten different people today. If out
    of ten I can make three happy, then eventually I can indirectly
    influence the attitudes of 3,000 more."

    "It sounds good on paper," I admitted, "but I'm not sure it words in
    practice."

    "Nothing is lost if it doesn't. It didn't take any of my time to tell that
    man he was doing a good job. He neither received a larger tip nor a
    smaller tip. If it fell on deaf ears, so what? Tomorrow there will be
    another taxi driver I can try to make happy."

    "You're some kind of a nut," I said.

    "That shows how cynical you have become. I have made a study of
    this. The thing that seems to be lacking, besides money of course, for
    our postal employees, is that no one tells people who work for the
    post office what a good job they're doing."

    "But they're not doing a good job."

    "They're not doing a good job because they feel no one cares if they
    do or not. Why shouldn't someone say a kind word to them?"

    We were walking past a structure in the process of being built and
    passed five workmen eating their lunch. My friend stopped. "That's a
    magnificent job you men have done. It must be difficult and dangerous
    work."

    The workmen eyed my friend suspiciously.

    "When will it be finished?"

    "June, a man grunted.

    "Ah. That really is impressive. You must all be very proud."

    We walked away. I said to him, "I haven't seen anyone like you since
    The Man From LaMancha."

    "When those men digest my words, they will feel better for it.
    Somehow the city will benefit from their happiness."

    "But you can't do this all alone!" I protested. "You're just one man."

    "The most important thing is not to get discouraged. Making people in
    the city become kind again is not an easy job, but if I can enlist other
    people in my campaign. . ."

    You just winked at a very plain-looking woman," I said.

    "Yes, I know," he replied. "And if she's a schoolteacher, her class
    will be in for a fantastic day."