I Was So Ill I Couldn’t Walk As a Stranger Practically Supported Me to a Bathroom.

Back when I was nineteenth year, my daily commute was on an packed public transport. It remained crowded and would always be without any seats by the time I got on.

On one specific day, I began feeling quite nauseous while the vehicle lurched around every turn. I continuously reassured myself to hold on just a little longer until the bus got to where I needed to get off, and then I could rush hurriedly for the nearest public toilet to throw up.

The bus was approaching the avenue close to the destination as I understood I wasn’t going to make it. All of a sudden, it was like a veil came over me. The world became white and really quiet; as if someone turned off the audio. I said to myself, “I am about to pass out”.

Luckily I was toward the front of the bus, so I took a few steps toward the driver and asked the driver to pull over, informing him I needed to vomit. The driver opened the bus doors and I stumbled out on to the pavement.

My intention was to not get sick before a busy multi-lane road, so I picked myself up and began attempting to stumble to the park on the other side, where I thought I could at least find some privacy among some shrubs to be sick. But then I likely blacked out. I could feel my body but walking was impossible or see clearly, so I started dragging myself toward the park.

“Everything alright, love?”

In that instant, I got scooped up. I felt someone holding me and heard a man say, “You right, love?” I explained to this mysterious stranger that I needed to be sick. Thus, he practically helped me walk into a close-by structure and put me inside the women’s restroom. He wanted to know if I wanted him to stay with me but I refused.

A few minutes later, I regained my composure to the point of sitting on the restroom floor when from beyond the door came his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Can I get you something?” I wasn’t able to rise right away but I was able to say thank you and following a brief period was able to move my feet. I got myself home passing several days recovering from which was a severe stomach virus.

I never glimpsed that man’s face – only his legs and the big metal toolbox he was carrying – yet he rescued me, at a moment I was at my most vulnerable.

Often this world has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that reverses that emotional callousness. He was proof that humanity’s innate tendency is towards kindness, a trait I cherish in other people.