How contagious are you?

The other day, I was seated at the far end of a subway car — riding the R Train into Manhattan. From the other end of the car, I heard what sounded like singing. After a beat, I ascertained that the vocalist was a double amputee in a wheelchair. A middle-aged Hispanic male, he was playing music on a small radio and enthusiastically singing along. Everyone got a smile, a fist pump, and a dose of positive energy as he passed.

No one put even a penny in his donation cup.

As he neared me — his luminous smile and energy not dimmed by the lack of support — we made eye contact. I waved him over and made a show of giving him cash and chatting with him.

In a flash (and as I expected/hoped), four other people rose, walked over to him, and stuffed wads of bills into his cup. The man sang louder and more happily than before.

He wheeled past me, heading towards the doors that would allow him to make a tricky switch to the next car. With a big grin, he slowed down and nodded at me. He saw what just happened. 

“Gracias!” he exclaimed to me. “Have an amazing weekend.”

“I already am,” I replied. “God bless you.”

The wheelchair singer reached for the door to get out of the car. Suddenly, the young man sitting closest to the door jumped up to hold the door open — making the transition much safer. The man moved on to sing in the next car. The young man sat back down. I caught his eye and nodded with approval and respect. He smiled back, looking like a proud little boy.

Never forget: Sometimes people desperately want to help but don’t know where or how to begin. Be the one who starts and watch your faith in humanity rise as others step up to join you. Love and compassion are highly contagious. 

I’ll give you another example. 

A few years ago, in the pre-Covid days of yore, I was looking for the homeless women I knew who panhandled near Madison Square Garden at that time. As I crossed the street, I heard a sickening thud behind me. 

I turned and saw that an old woman (frail, maybe early 70s, not homeless) had tripped and landed flat on her face. She didn’t/couldn’t move at first as blood pooled under her cheek on the street itself. 

I got to work. 

I first checked to see if she was conscious (she was) and then assured her she was not alone. A dude in a suit slowed down to ask what happened. I asked him to call 911 in front of me (so I could hear what he was saying).

I stopped a second lunch break worker and pointed out to him where he’d find a parked cop car (I knew this area well). As a backup plan, I told this guy to run — not walk — to the cop and have them call in for an ambulance.

When I turned back to the fallen woman, a very sweet man and woman (they weren’t together) has also stopped and made it clear they were staying to help. The three of us formed a protective circle around the woman in the street as cars swerved around us. I heard them both calling their respective bosses to say they’d be late returning from lunch.

I found out the fallen woman’s name was Tina, she lived alone, was out running errands, and she was very excited about some kind of trip she was going to take on the very next day. It didn’t seem she was too badly cut but wow, when she moved her head, we could then see that she was really bleeding.

Since I was out helping homeless women, I had a ton of supplies in my bag so I started looking for a towel and some wet wipes. At that precise moment, I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up into the sun to see the silhouette of a man handing me some rubber gloves. I couldn’t see much except a shadowy hand reaching down from the heavens. 

I later found out it was a postal worker who stopped his truck to see how he could help. I put on the gloves and started wiping Tina’s wounds while the other two helpers knelt close — soothing her with encouragement and small talk. By the time the ambulance arrived, Tina was cleaned up and seemed much calmer.

A very kind-hearted EMT named Mary Ann emerged, got the details from us, and then said: “How ya feeling, Miss Tina?”

Tina’s voice was stronger now: “A little dizzy (pause) but I’m going on a trip tomorrow.” 

Mary Ann gently placed her hand on Tina’s shoulder: “Don’t you worry, Miss Tina, you’re still going on your trip. But right now, we gotta take our own trip to the hospital and get you stitched up.”

Me and the other helpers wished Tina well and then turned to each other. After a pause, we all smiled and said “Thank you.” They went back to work and I moved on to finish my rounds.

Never forget: Sometimes people desperately want to help but don’t know where or how to begin. Be the one who starts and watch your faith in humanity rise as others step up to join you. Love and compassion are highly contagious.

If you look around at the world and don’t like what you see, take daily action to plant the seeds of change.

P.S. Here’s a post I made yesterday to help get you started: