Six and a half years ago, Herman and I sold our home in San Rafael to a lovely couple and their two kids, who had spent the last ten years working in China. We only met them briefly, but told them one of our regrets in leaving that house was missing out on the plum tree in the backyard. It which produced the best-tasting plums, and from it we made scrumptious jam.
Now a FedEx box arrives about this time every year, chock full of ripe plums from that tree. A box arrived yesterday, and we were, once again, delighted.
This kind of thoughtfulness, unexpected and unasked for, reminds me that, in this world where there seems to be so much hate and violence, there is also love and bigheartedness. I wouldn’t trade that box of plums for a ten-thousand-dollar check, because the time and effort it took to gather and ship them shows true compassion for their fellow man.
And now, I feel compelled to pass on some similar act of kindness, so that others can experience the warm feelings I relish every time I bite into a plum.