It was 1996 when my husband was transferred to the small rural town of Healesville for work. In inner-city Melbourne, where we’d been living, we had a support network of neighbours, friends and family. In Healesville we didn’t know a soul. It was just me and my husband, our two little kids and two dogs.
We hadn’t been there long when we all came down with the flu. It wasn’t a cold, it was the flu – complete with aching, fevers and hallucinating. It was terrible.
We did have some food in the house but not much. At some stage I tried to drive down to the shops to get us something to eat but I had to turn back because I was too sick to navigate. We lived 5km out of town so walking in wasn’t an option. There were no takeaway food outlets in the town and, of course, this was long before the days of food deliveries. I didn’t know any doctors nearby and, being so far from family, there was no one I could call on for help. I remember desperately saying to my husband, “We have to feed the dogs!” We were stuck.
Then there was a phone call. On the other end was a woman who worked with my husband at his new job. We’d never met but she’d got wind that we were sick and let me know she’d just dropped a big pot of soup on our doorstep. That soup saved us – even the dogs got some. It sustained us for days, until I was well enough to prepare the most basic of meals.
Without that help, which came so out of the blue, I don’t know what we would have done. I later got to know that woman, Kath, and learned that this is typical behaviour for her. She’s a very kind-hearted, community-minded person.
Kath’s act of kindness made me appreciate how much small gestures can mean – as well as what a lovely act of compassion making a meal for someone is. Cooking up a big pot of soup has become my go-to thing when someone is sick. It’s always appreciated.
What is the nicest thing a stranger has ever done for you?
Callout
If you’re having trouble using the form click here. Read terms of service here and privacy policy here
