In Such Poor Health I Couldn’t Walk As a Stranger Virtually Carried Me to a Restroom.

At the age of my late teens, my morning travel meant taking an packed public transport. It remained crowded and was consistently standing room only by the time I stepped aboard.

On one specific day, I was feeling incredibly sick while the vehicle lurched around every turn. I kept telling myself to persevere just a little longer until the bus arrived at where I needed to get off, at which point I could rush hurriedly toward the most convenient public restroom to throw up.

We were coming down the road leading to the stop when I understood I would not be to make it. In an instant, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. The world became hazy and muffled; like someone had cut the sound. My mind raced, “I’m going to faint”.

Fortunately, I stood near the front inside the vehicle, allowing me to take several steps forward and requested that the driver to open the doors, explaining to him that I was about to get ill. The driver opened the bus doors and I weakly exited onto the sidewalk.

My intention was not to vomit before a busy multi-lane road, so I gathered myself and endeavored to make my way across to the park across the road, where I thought I could at least find some privacy near some foliage to throw up. Yet I apparently fainted. I sensed my body but walking was impossible or see properly, so I began crawling towards my intended destination.

“Everything alright, love?”

Right then, I was lifted up. I sensed a strong arm supporting me and a stranger inquired, “Are you okay, dear?” I told this unknown man that I had to to get to a bathroom. So he virtually helped me walk down into an adjacent building and guided me inside the women’s restroom. He asked me whether I required him to wait for me but I refused.

A few minutes later, I had recovered enough to sit down and from the other side of the door I heard him inquire, “Are you feeling better, dear? Is there anything you require?” I was incapable to rise just then but I was able to say thank you and following a brief period regained the function of my legs. I made my way home and then spent the following days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I never saw that man’s face – only his legs and a large container for tools he had with him – but he saved me, when I was in my weakest state.

Many times, life tends to make people guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that hardening of the heart. He served as evidence that people’s natural inclination leans toward compassion, a quality I adore about humanity.