A not so random act of kindness

I recently returned from a week- long preaching conference in Door County, WI. It was a wonderfully relaxing week during which, I hope, I also learned a few things.
But there is one moment of that week that lingers in my memory. On the last night of the conference, I went to a local restaurant where they advertised music. I believe the name of the band was the Doc Watson Trio. It was a local group and consisted of two guys playing keyboards and a drummer.
They were my age or even a bit older, and they were having a good time. It was fun to listen to them and sing along. They obviously knew a number of people in the audience.
It took a while, but I noticed that one of the keyboard players, the oldest of the group, played with only one hand … his left. He played the bass line to all the songs while his right hand remained in his lap, never moving. It was apparent that he could not move it.
When the band took a break, he stood up slowly. He could move his right leg, but only with great difficulty. It was clear that he had had a stroke. The other keyboard player — Doc — and the drummer both got up and helped him to the edge of the stage, where people from the audience then met him and helped him down.
I was deeply moved by the tenderness of all those who helped and at his great appreciation for their help. Clearly the stroke had not dulled his mind or sense of humor.
He shuffled from table to table, laughing with friends and gently poking fun at himself. He eventually reached the bar where his friends helped him onto a stool and the waitress poured him a glass of red wine, which he obviously enjoyed.
I was also moved by the caring of his fellow band members. It was easy to see that they had done whatever they could to keep him up on that stage, even if he could only play with one hand.
What an affirmation of the human spirit. Here was a man who clearly refused to allow the medicine chest or physical disability to determine the horizons of his life.
Watching him enjoying people and watching people enjoy him reminded me of a line from the film, “Shawshank Redemption”: “Get busy living, or get busy dying.”
It was easy to see what path he had chosen. He and the band were still going strong when I left to go back to my room.
How easy it is to get down on life; to complain because rocks are hard and water is wet; to turn life into more burden than blessing. I’m sure it would have been easier for an old man with a paralyzed arm who could barely walk just to stay home and watch TV.
And yet, being up on that little stage, still able to make music and share a laugh with friends, obviously meant so much to him. He actually seemed to get stronger as the night went on.
As you can tell, I have been thinking a lot about that night in Wisconsin. I think of the love and care both given and gratefully received by that disabled musician.
It occurs to me that our angry and divided country could use more nights like that. Not random acts of kindness, but very intentional acts of kindness and acceptance and tolerance, every minute of every day. It may be the only thing that can save us.
Rev. Gene Nelson is the pastor of the Community Church of Sebastopol.