Like Blanche DuBois, I recently had occasion to rely on the kindness of strangers. During a weekend outing to Fredricksburg, TX, I caught my foot on a curb and smashed my face full-force against the pavement. I could tell, from the blood on my hands, the state of my glasses, and from the expressions on my family’s faces, that something was amiss. Then strangers appeared: a child bearing a worried expression, a woman thrusting a pack of tissues into my daughter’s hands, people offering bottles of water, a man who ran into a restaurant and returned with a bag of ice and a handful of napkins. Bicycle police insisted I let EMS check me out; EMS directed me to a nearby Wal-Mart, where I could purchase first-aid supplies. While my daughters tended my wounds in the Wal-Mart bathroom, woman after woman appeared, looked at me, registered shock, and asked the question of compassion: “What happened to you?” Then they shared their stories of frightening falls and of recoveries. Each story was different, but I noticed a running theme: connection. The actions of, the stories of these strangers recognized that we are connected by our humanness, by our vulnerability, by our need for community, and by our need for hope.

After that weekend, I recommitted myself to being a stranger on whose kindness others can rely. What does “stranger kindness” look like to you?