Just Plain Nice

I fear this post will sound Pollyanna-ish, cliché even, but after the day I’ve had, I’m giving a shout out for plain and simple niceness.

The drive was anxiety-producing. For me, anyway. I don’t like heading out on the roads in bad weather. Yet today I had a plane to catch, a plane that would take me out of this winter for three days. I wasn’t sure if I imagined it as penance for me wanting to escape the cold and ice, but I had to drive through ice and snow if I was going to see sand and sun. Even worse, I had to encounter idiot drivers who decided to rev their souped up, monstrously tired pickups on county roads at high rates of speed just to prove something. (Ok, this is the not the plain niceness I’m referring to. Sometimes you just need to call out idiocy for what it is).

After my heart rate returned to normal and my palms were less clammy, I breezed through security and stopped in the restroom near my gate. While washing my hands, a woman about my age complimented the color of my sweatshirt. That was unexpected and genuinely nice. The compliment led to a conversation about the weather; that’s what strangers talk about after all. She admitted that she wouldn’t have been on the roads except that she had a plane to catch. Aah, a kindred spirit! Then we commiserated over idiots on the road (my words, not hers. Remember, she’s nice). 

I so appreciated this moment of mutual consolation. Could she see the stress in my face or the relief of having come through the storm? I don’t know, but it was an unexpected niceness that helped to “renew a right spirit within me” as the Psalm says. I felt lighter and thankful.

A few moments later, the gate attendant announced we were boarding. I asked a gentleman in front of me how to know our boarding zone number. I had read all the small print on the pass (isn’t that what we are taught to read, the small print?!) and though I do fly pretty often, I didn’t even see the bold ZONE 5 staring at me, plain as day. The man was gracious, using humor in his response and then I discovered he was the husband to the woman with whom I chatted in the restroom. She then greeted me, mentioned that her daughter had dubbed me “the nice lady from the restroom,” and wished me well.

I didn’t make the first move, however. I simply responded in gratitude to her niceness. I know niceness isn’t always genuine; I know that being “nice” can cover up what we really wish to express. But on this day at this time, I’m taking it at face value; I’m thankful for people who are just plain nice.