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

During my nineteenth year, my morning travel was on an packed public transport. It remained jammed and would always be standing room only once I boarded.

One particular morning, I began feeling terribly ill when the coach rocked around each corner. I continuously reassured myself to hold on another few kilometres so the bus could reached where I needed to get off, so I could then make a mad dash toward the most convenient public restroom to throw up.

As we neared the avenue close to the destination as it dawned on me I was unable to hold on. All of a sudden, it felt as if a veil came over me. The world became white and really quiet; as if someone muted everything. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.

Fortunately, I stood toward the front inside the vehicle, so I managed a few steps toward the driver and asked the driver to open the doors, informing him I was going to vomit. He promptly opened the doors and I weakly exited out onto the street.

I was determined to not get sick in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I picked myself up and endeavored to stumble to the park on the other side, where I believed I’d at least be able to discreetly hide among some shrubs to vomit. Yet I likely lost consciousness. I sensed my physical self, yet walking was impossible or see properly, leading me to start crawling towards my intended destination.

“Are you okay, dear?”

At that moment, I was lifted up. There was an arm around my waist and a stranger inquired, “Everything alright, love?” I told this kind passerby that I needed to vomit. Thus, he practically supported my weight down into a nearby building and placed me in the ladies’ toilets. He asked me if I needed him to stay with me but I said no.

After a short while, I had recovered sufficiently to sit down and from outside the door I heard his voice asking, “Are you OK, love? Is there anything you require?” I could not to stand up right away but I did succeed to thank him and following a brief period was able to move my legs. I got myself home and spent several days getting over what turned out to be a horrible case of gastroenteritis.

I did not see that man’s face – merely his legs and a large container for tools he was carrying – but he saved me, during a time when I was at my most vulnerable.

Frequently, society tends to make people guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that reverses that emotional callousness. He was proof that our default setting is to be kind, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.