Do Unto Others
By Marni Myers

aaaaMy parents dutifully raised me in the Christian tradition of the Good Samaritan, the Golden Rule, and "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." I suppose some of it must have sunk in early on, because I remember one afternoon when I was probably about six years old, sitting in McDonald's with assorted extended family members, and offering, unsolicited, to share my French fries with my grandma, who hadn't ordered any lunch. Unfortunately, in spite of all my parents' best efforts, in spite of all those Sunday School lessons on "doing unto others," this appears to be an isolated incident, and I fear I was, like most children, inherently selfish (though not mean) and unaware of the world around me until I got a little older, and saw the proverbs and principles I had been taught dynamically in-action.
	aaaaI remember financial hardships for my parents growing up. There was a time when my dad worked for a struggling new company that couldn't afford to pay him every month. I remember opening the door on more than one occasion after the bell had rung, to find a box of food on our porch, often with an envelope holding money tucked inside. I remember, probably around that same time, coming home after visits to my Aunt Nancy's house and discovering that, while we were enjoying a family dinner in the raucous company of my many cousins, my Uncle Bob had slipped out through the garage door and hidden in our trunk paper grocery bags loaded with cold cereal, laundry soap, soda pop, cookies, crackers, bread and other such items.
aaaaI remember, as a teenager, being so frustrated with the petty social dynamic at my small-town high school that I asked if I could go live on the other side of the country with a family who'd been our neighbors until a few months before, the Jeppsons. Miraculously, they (and my mother) said yes, opened their home to me for a school year--and became a much cherished, second family. aaaaI remember being a lonely, starving college freshman in New York City. Less than a week after my arrival, I was befriended by Marlayna and Cherlynn, two roommates from my church in their mid-20s, who lived near me. They had me over to dinner frequently (this was a life-saver, on my limited student budget), showed me around the neighborhood, let me sleep on their couch after movie nights, introduced me to their friends, and generally watched over me like older sisters. There was even one Friday night that Fall when it seemed like the few people I knew were busy and I was desperate for some social contact outside the dorms. I showed up in Marlayna and Cherlynn's lobby unannounced. Were they busy? Could I hang out with them? They invited me up without the least hesitation or annoyance. We rented videos from the movie store down the street and ordered pizza. (Obviously I was lucky they didn't have plans that particular evening!) They probably have no idea how crucial their small acts of friendship were to my survival at that time.
aaaaI remember being terrified yet determined to study in France my junior year of college. A few days before I left, I got a call out of the blue from Sarah, girl a couple of years older than I, whom I'd barely known in New York. She was also in France--her parents had gone there for work at the beginning of the summer--had heard I was coming, and wanted to know would I like her to meet me at the airport? Was that a rhetorical question? Not only did Sarah pick me up at the airport, but she drove me to my temporary residence, went with me to meet the French family the university had selected for me to live with, helped me navigate the Parisian metro system, hosted me to numerous meals with her family, and invited me over for every holiday. We spent the majority of our free time together that school year, and my only regret is that we somehow lost contact a few years later, after we'd both moved, and I've never been able to find her again. aaaaI remember an American couple I met in France, Paul and Paula Loftus, when I was referred to them as a babysitter by a mutual friend.	aa
Little did I know, when I went to baby-sit their one-year-old son while they went to a Counting Crows concert, the impact that they would have on my life. Not only did I baby-sit for them, but they also paid me to stay in their large apartment whenever they went out-of-town (they called it "house-sitting" or "dog-sitting", but really it was like living in a nice hotel for free, complete with food in the fridge), and frequently invited me to stay to dinner after I'd been babysitting on a weekday afternoon. I even did my laundry at their house every week (my French family wasn't exactly keen on letting me use their tiny washing machine in the kitchen). I'd schlep it over on the metro in a little soft-sided travel bag, do it while I was babysitting, and then schlep it home again, nice and clean. Saved me a bundle over the pricey laundry mat! When I'd completed college, the Loftus family having moved back to the States, they gave me a job as a part-time, live-in nanny to their two kids. They didn't really need a nanny, but they knew I needed a job for a few months and wanted to work for them. A few years later, when I was at a transition period in my life, they let me live with them, rent-free, for over a year, until I got back on my feet. Not only did they open their home to me, but they let me drive their cars too, until I could buy my own, and even paid for me to go with them on vacation. To Disneyworld! How many people do you know who would be willing to do that? Their extreme generosity in ways both large and small, monetary and intangible, has affected my life immeasurably. This couple and their (now three) children remain among my closest and most precious friends. I know I can never repay them, but I try always to follow their example of selflessness, respect, and giving in my interaction with others. aaaaOther smaller, but not less significant, acts of kindness stand out. A few years ago, I was moving from an apartment to a house a few miles away. One of my best friends, Catherine, of her own volition, gave up at least a week's worth of evenings, not to mention a Saturday or two, to help me clean, sort, and throw out in preparation for the move. On moving day itself, so many of my loyal and enthusiastic co-workers showed up, that we accomplished everything in under three hours. Yes, that's right, everything, including going back for a second load of furniture. One girlfriend, Maureen, thoughtfully brought pastries and milk for us all to have for breakfast. Another, Melissa, found the box with the bed linens and, while the guys were busy bringing in the second load, thoughtfully made up my bed so it would be ready for me to sleep in that night. aaaaAnother weekend, I came home from a business trip exhausted and unhappy. I'd been traveling so much for work, none of my former social contacts called me anymore, and I felt utterly overlooked and forgotten. I made an effort to call a few people in an attempt to wrangle some plans for the evening, but it was all to no avail and I burst into tears. My sister, who was living with me at the time, heard my sobs from the next room and came in to see what was the matter. Seeing my state, she and her fiancé canceled their plans to go out for the evening and stayed home with me instead. aaaaI am reminded also of a boy from the 7th grade named Anthony, who asked me (painfully awkward and geeky in those days) to dance after another kid turned me down. How grateful I was to him! Granted, it wasn't exactly as dramatic as Mr. Knightly asking Harriet to dance in Jane Austen's Emma--like most 7th graders, Anthony was skinny and had bad skin--but Anthony's apparent consideration was obviously memorable just the same. aaaaThese are but a few of the multiplicity of instances of kindness and selfless service I've experienced. They are always with me, urging me to be better myself, to give a little more of my time, energy and resources, encouraging me to be aware of the lives around me. I don't always succeed, but it is a standard I nonetheless hold up and look to. If you'll notice, none of the instances above is particularly extraordinary. (Well, okay, so letting someone live with you for a year rent-free is quite remarkable.) At no time was I injured, deathly ill, completely friendless, in the hospital, financially destitute, homeless, unable to work, or otherwise without resources. On paper, I didn't qualify for any substantial assistance. And yet, that is precisely what makes these experiences so amazing and memorable. Kindness--small, thoughtful and personal--was offered without reserve by those who thought I could use a little boost. aaaaI believe in Karma. I believe that what we give comes back to us in excess, and that it's up to us to continually perpetuate the cycle of giving at every opportunity. I believe in putting myself in other people's shoes. Want and need are no respecters of persons, so why should I be? I don't believe in keeping a tally of good deeds done and received, nor do I concern myself with motives. The proverb that my parents, through their words and their own quiet examples, tried to teach me as a child is true: "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you"--and your life will be full.