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

Back when I was nineteenth year, my daily commute was on an crowded coach. The vehicle was always crowded and would always be standing room only once I stepped aboard.

One particular morning, I began feeling quite nauseous when the coach rocked around each corner. I kept telling myself to hold on for a few more stops until the bus got to where I needed to get off, so I could then make a mad dash toward the most convenient public toilet to vomit.

We were coming down the avenue close to my stop and it dawned on me I wasn’t going to last. All of a sudden, it seemed a veil came over me. Everything just went white and really quiet; like someone had cut the sound. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.

Thankfully, I was positioned toward the front of the bus, so I took a few steps forward and told the operator to stop, informing him that I was about to get ill. He opened the entrance and I hurriedly stepped on to the pavement.

I was resolved to not get sick in front of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and began attempting to stumble across to the park on the other side, where I thought I’d at least be able to find some privacy among some shrubs to throw up. But then I must have fainted. I sensed my physical self, yet I was unable to walk or see properly, so I started dragging myself toward my intended destination.

“You right, love?”

In that instant, someone picked me up. There was an arm around my waist and a stranger inquired, “Everything alright, love?” I managed to tell the mysterious stranger that I had to to get to a bathroom. So he virtually helped me walk over to a nearby building and placed me inside the women’s restroom. He wanted to know if I needed him to stay with me but I said no.

Not long after, I felt better to the point of sitting on the restroom floor and from outside the door came his voice asking, “Do you need anything, love? Is there anything you require?” I was incapable to rise at that moment but I did succeed to thank him and following a brief period was able to move my legs. I got myself home passing the next few days healing from what turned out to be a severe stomach virus.

I did not see his features – merely his legs and the big steelwork tools container he had with him – yet he rescued me, when I was completely helpless.

Often this world has a way of making you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that protective shell. He demonstrated that our default setting leans toward compassion, a quality I adore in other people.