A week ago, I found out something I could never have imagined. I was strolling through the city centre when, quite by chance, I bumped into an old schoolmate I hadnt seen in years. We greeted each other, caught up, exchanged a few bits of news, and in the middle of chatting she told me she now works as a nurse at the care home in the village nearby. I told her how lovely that was, that it must be a tough but rewarding job. Thats when she let this slip:
Well, I see your mum there every last Friday of the month.
I stopped dead. I asked her what she meant, what my mum was doing there, and she answered as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world:
Didnt you know? She brings treats for the residents every month, without fail. Such a kind thing to do.
I had no idea what to say. I felt embarrassed to admit that my mum had never told me about it, that I had no clue. My old classmate thought I was joking, but when she saw my face, she added:
Your mums ever so modest. She pops by, says hello, leaves the goodies and quietly leaves.
That same day, as soon as I got home, I asked her straight out:
Mum, why have you never told me that you visit the care home every month?
She was sweeping the living room and barely looked up:
Why would I need to tell you?
I kept pressing her:
Because its something wonderfulbecause it matters
She leaned the broom against the wall, looked at me calmly, and said, Good deeds arent done for show. You just do them. God sees everything thats enough for me.
She told me that two years ago, after a close friend of hers passed away, she felt the urge to do something good for someone else. One day, she passed by the care home, saw some of the elderly sitting outside, and decided to pop in. She spoke with the staff and asked what would be helpful.
Since then, every last Friday of the month, my mum buys juice, packets of biscuits and snacks, sometimes wet wipes or toiletriesdepending on how the finances look that month. She takes them round for the residents. She told me she never wanted to involve anyone else, as she didnt want people thinking she was looking for praise or attention. Shed rather keep it quiet, her own special way.
When you want to help, you just help. You dont have to tell anyone. I know what Im doing, she said, as she was clearing the plates after dinner.
All night, I couldnt stop thinking about it. My muma simple, humble woman with not much to spare, often going without herselfgoes every month to brighten the day of people who might well be forgotten. I felt such pride, and, at the same time, a sort of ache that shed carried all this alone.
Now Im thinking of going with her next Friday. But Im still not sure how to say it in a way that doesnt make her feel like Im intruding or overstepping.
Just thisseeing my mum do something so big in such a quiet way its changed something in my heart.
