In Such Poor Health I Couldn’t Walk As a Stranger Essentially Lifted Me to a Bathroom.

During my nineteenth year, my daily commute was on an crowded coach. It was perpetually full and was consistently standing room only by the time I stepped aboard.

One particular morning, I was feeling terribly ill while the vehicle swayed around every turn. I kept telling myself to endure another few kilometres so the bus could arrived at my destination, at which point I could make a mad dash for the nearest public toilet to throw up.

We were coming down the road leading to the stop when I realised I was unable to hold on. Suddenly, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. My vision turned blank and silent; like someone had muted everything. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.

Luckily I was close to the driver inside the vehicle, so I took several steps toward the driver and requested that the driver to stop, informing him I was going to vomit. The driver opened the bus doors and I hurriedly stepped on to the pavement.

I was determined to not get sick in view of a busy multi-lane road, so I picked myself up and began attempting to stumble across to the park on the other side, where I thought I could at least find some privacy near some foliage to throw up. But then I apparently lost consciousness. I could feel my body but I couldn’t walk and my vision was blurry, so I started inching my way to my intended destination.

“You right, love?”

Right then, I was lifted up. I sensed someone holding me and a stranger inquired, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the mysterious stranger that I had to to be sick. So he virtually helped me walk over to a nearby building and placed me in the ladies’ toilets. He inquired whether I required him to stay with me but I said no.

After a short while, I regained my composure sufficiently to sit on the toilet and from outside the door I heard him ask, “Do you need anything, love? Is there anything you require?” I was incapable to get up at that moment but I did succeed to express my gratitude and after a few more minutes recovered the use of my limbs. I returned home passing several days recovering from which was a nasty tummy bug.

I never saw the stranger’s face – just his lower half and the big metal toolbox he held – but he helped me, during a time when I was at my most vulnerable.

Often this world tends to make people guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that reverses that emotional callousness. He was proof that our default setting leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish in other people.