Random Act of Kindness

Back in the dark days of the Second World War my mum’s family moved south from Yorkshire to Aylesbury. My grandparents and their six children were sorting themselves out and getting to know their new surroundings when, one night at about ten o’clock, there was a knock at the door.

A couple from the East End of London stood outside with their young daughter. The woman was heavily pregnant and the man was in uniform. Their home had been bombed and he had brought them out of London, looking for a safer haven. He had to report back to his unit and this was the last day he could spare. They had been knocking on doors all day to no avail.

But then, my nan and granddad changed that. They invited these strangers into their house and made them welcome. The little girl was befriended by my mum and her sisters, and my nan promised to keep an eye on them while the man went back to the fighting.

Today I was at my uncle’s funeral and, after the service I sat down to nibble a sandwich and found myself chatting to a lovely couple. When I asked how they knew the family I discovered that the woman in front of me had been the little girl my grandparents had taken in. She had been in contact with my aunt and uncle in Sussex as she lived close by. When I told her who my mum was she exclaimed, “oh I loved her!” She told me more stories about my mum’s kindness and how much her family had appreciated that random act of kindness so long ago.

Random Act Despite losing so much of that generation over the last few years, I’m getting to discover more and more details that make me appreciate my family.


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