Kindness.

Generally speaking, my life is not a lot of drama. Aside from the occasional missed credit card bill, flat tire, or out-of-order espresso machine at Starbucks, very little happens that upsets me. 

However, there is the occasional incident. And the most recent one reminded me of one of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my young life.

Two weeks ago, a friend approached me about a favor he needed done--quickly. He needed an essay written on a book he hadn't read, and he knew it was a task I could easily do, especially considering it was a "side job" I maintained in college and post-grad. I happily agreed to write the paper once I saw the essay outline and realized how easy it would be for me. Time-consuming, yes. But easy. 

We met for early dinner that Friday afternoon so we could discuss a few more minor details of the essay, as well as give me the book needed for the assignment. Before leaving, my friend told me he’d see me in a few days to pick up the paper. 

“Sounds good,” I told him before going to get Vaught. 

It took me most of the weekend, but I had the assignment ready for my friend to pick up from me Tuesday afternoon.

That is, until said friend’s significant other, whom I do not know at all, came into the mix. Let me also make it clear that she is ten years younger than I. Count 'em--ten. 

My friend soon informed me that he was bringing his significant other to my house to pick up the paper (weird) because said significant other needed assurance that there was nothing going on between me and my friend (weirder). It was extremely odd, but I said Okay and told him the book and essay would be in my mailbox for him to get (at this point, I knew that was the better route). I also must include here that my husband, working out of state that week, was aware of all that was happening. He was as dumbfounded as I was. 

It doesn't end there. My friend’s significant other had also written a derogatory comment towards me on my friend's Instagram photo for all the world to see (yep, it went there). I was more offended than I was angry, and it bothered me that my friend didn’t seem to want to delete it. In fact, my friend instigated it further by suggesting that I respond with something equally distasteful. 

But it’s on your photo, I said via text. Please take care of it.

Sounds fair, right? Reluctantly, my friend finally removed the comment.

By the time I left work Tuesday, I was irritated. My friend had begun acting so odd towards me that I’d pretty much decided to not give him the essay—despite the fact that I was completely finished with it. 

Please, Kate, my friend begged, Don’t do this, don’t let me fail.

My thought: I don't really see how that's my problem?

By the time I got home from work, I’d surpassed mad. I was livid. The childish text exchanges had continued on, with my friend informing me that his girlfriend would "start all kinds of shit" (yes, those words exactly) if he came to get the essay alone, despite the fact that I'd repeatedly told him he was getting it out of my mailbox. 

Is this beginning to sound as bizarre to you all as it does to me?

It was only five o’clock and I was angry at the world. I’d decided I was not giving my friend the essay I’d written for him—the essay I’d written after staying up late Friday night reading a book I’d never even heard of just so I could write a quality paper. I put only the book in my mailbox for him to pick up. 

About an hour later, something came over me. I was eating dinner with Vaught when I realized that although I had every right to be upset, I didn’t need to be angry. I remembered that my friend was younger than me, less mature than I, and I couldn’t really blame him for acting the way he did when his girlfriend started trouble. 

I realized that’s what my friend is used to. That’s what he's involved in on a daily basis. It was ignorant of me to expect his significant other to behave differently. 

Edited to add that just this morning (12/28/15), my husband realized he had a direct message from my friend's significant other on Instagram. We laughed at her crazy over our morning coffee. 

I also realized that although my friend needed to learn a lesson on what it actually means to be a friend, I didn’t feel that it was up to me to go back on my word in order to prove a point simply out of spite. 

I knew he (and his overseer girlfriend) would be coming by soon, so I stopped in the middle of dinner and went to my office. I plugged my laptop into the printer and printed out the five-page argumentative research paper I’d written. I taped a note to it, informing him that I did my very best and hoped it would earn an A, and I ran to my mailbox to put it in. Luckily, the book was still there, so I knew he’d not come by yet. 

Shortly after that, I heard someone pull up outside my house. I peeked through the peephole in my front door and saw a car sitting in front of my mailbox, an arm reaching in. 

I never received a thank-you, just a text at nearly midnight, which went unanswered: I’m sorry, Kate. 

I don’t think my friend acknowledged what I'd done for him one time that day. I didn't receive a single thank-you, perhaps because he was too busy trying to pacify an insecure girlfriend. 

I didn't stick to my word to receive gratification though... I did it because it was the right thing to do. 

I don’t write this post to show what an amazing person I am-- I'm not. I do not always do the right thing, and I can be petty and childish right there with the rest of them sometimes. 

But I will say this: had I not given him the essay, which I’d happily agreed to write a few days prior, I would have ended up feeling awful. Is it my fault if you fail your English class? No. But I'd told my friend I would do something, and to go back on my word, under any circumstance, says more about me and my character than it says about him. Whose character am I responsible for? Mine. 

I went to bed completely at peace with the situation. I put this gem on Instagram before falling asleep. 

By Tuesday afternoon, my friend really didn’t deserve to be treated nicely. He didn’t deserve the essay I’d worked so hard on and was so proud of. But I knew inside that by going back on my word, I’d not only be hurting him but myself too. 

Treating others the way you want to be treated can be a one-way street; it often means that you show much more kindness than you’re shown. I learned this lesson long ago, but I found myself extremely grateful to have been reminded of it, even at the expense of damaging a friendship.

I've not spoken to my friend since the incident and don't intend to any time soon, not because I'm holding a grudge, but because I think it's important that he figure things out on his own- and I told him that. There's a few things I feel he should learn about friendship and loyalty and honesty... And kindness. I highly doubt he reads my blog, but if so, Hey kid. 

Believe me when I say that the peace and gratification you get from doing what’s right always overrides the guilt and shame you may feel after acting out of spite. The lesson wasn't  mine to teach, and even though things took an unfortunate turn, I'm really glad I was able to help someone out. I'm glad I stuck to my word. 

Cultivate kindness. You won't regret it. Treat others the way you’d like to be treated. Be kind because you are kind—not because people deserve your kindness. I promise it pays off.