9:37am Friday 5th February 2010
IF hell does exist, I reckon Satan has reserved a special seat for me next to him in Hades. Me and all the other grumpy old men who sit and cuss alone in their cars in rush hour each day at every minor inconvenience thrust upon us by fellow human beings.
Maybe the targets of our curses have cut us up by mistake, or perhaps they are simply guilty of failing to stop to let us in at a difficult junction.
But somehow it all gets magnified when you are stuck in gridlock as so often is the way in south Bucks, and you finally make it to your desk raging at the injustice of the world.
And then you rage at the local supermarket when it doesn’t have the brand of juice you prefer, or at the council when it fails to clear your bin in the snow, or at the TV station for no longer screening your favourite show.
Most of us are guilty of it. We shake our heads and complain and we feel sorry for ourselves at the minor irritants life has thrown up at us in our cosseted, pampered world.
And then you look at the devastation in Haiti, for instance, and suddenly you realise that overflowing bins and gridlocked roads aren’t that bad after all.
But soon all is forgotten again and we tread the earth with a black cloud over our heads. This, of course, doesn’t apply to everyone, but most of you will know scores of people who live like this. It’s the human condition, and one we should have evolved out of long ago.
So as a belated New Year’s resolution I have tried to look on the positive side and count my blessings. I now cheer up when someone lets me in the traffic, and I stop to let other vehicles move in even if it makes me late.
I have now tried to make a point of saying hello to strangers, even if they do eye me up suspiciously and think I’m up to no good.
Because I do firmly believe that you reap what you sow. If you act miserably, then more misery tends to be heaped on you; if you treat people well, however, somehow it does tend to come good in the end for you. Try it, you may be surprised.
I thought of all of this as I studied two uplifting stories this week.
The first concerned the tale of Donald Langton, a 59-year-old man who had a heart attack at Beaconsfield motorway services.
Mr Langton, from Uxbridge, collapsed and hit his head while queuing for food at the services at junction 2 of the M40.
The UK is such a reserved country these days that I would fear onlookers would just stand around and do nothing. But thankfully, strangers rushed to Mr Langton’s aid and one even massaged his heart.
As a result, Mr Langton’s sister, Maureen Hawkins, sent a special message of thanks to these passers-by, saying: “If they hadn’t have acted as soon as they did then he wouldn’t be with us. I want to thank the people that were there, the ambulance crew and the staff at the hospital. They have been fantastic.”
The second story concerned a woman called Jenny Holmes from High Wycombe who suddenly felt unwell at Hazlemere Park Parade while walking to meet her husband, and stood there walking stick in hand, leaning against a wall.
Some people passed her by or ignored her, but one kind lady stopped and asked if she was okay.
This Good Samaritan then went into a toy shop, arranged a chair for her and then went into the nearby Co-Op to seek out Jenny’s husband. Jenny said of this mystery woman: “I didn’t think to ask your name, but you know who you are. Thank you and God bless.”
So the question remains for all of us: would you have been the one to step in and help, or would you have been among the passers-by who ignored this clearly unwell person?
And would you have rushed to the aid of the man in the motorway service station, or would you have been too frightened to help for fear of health and safety repercussions?
I sincerely hope I would be in the category of the people rushing to give aid, but you never know, do you, until it actually happens.
All I can say is that the sooner we all stop moaning, and the sooner we try to help each other out, then the better the world will be.
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