The Kindness of Strangers
April 2025 Edition
We’ve been in Costa Rica for about ten weeks now. In many ways, I feel at home here and deeply in love with this place—just as I was when I first came over 25 years ago. Yet while some things are becoming more familiar, many moments still feel awkward and uncertain.
Although I’m not terrible at speaking Spanish, I’m definitely in a growth spurt with it—so I often feel extra confused. I stumble over words while the kind person I’m speaking to waits patiently, encouraging me. I can feel their appreciation for my effort, and it goes a long way.
We haven’t connected with many people yet, and that’s been a little lonely at times. Since the kids are homeschooled, we don’t have the built-in community that often comes with school. It’s always been this way for us—eventually, we find our people. But being in a tourist area during the busy season makes it harder to tell who actually lives here and who’s just passing through.
I would think I’d be used to being the “new person.” We moved around a lot when I was a kid, and I went to three different schools between 8th and 12th grade. I’ve traveled widely, lived in many places, and held all kinds of jobs. Over time, I’ve become someone who adapts, learns, experiences, and grows. But for the first time, I started to feel a kind of fatigue from all the new—and although the reason might seem obvious, I couldn’t quite put my finger on what made this time feel different.
At sunset the other night, I caught a glimpse of what I’ve been missing. We were on the beach, and Lair made me laugh. I glanced over and noticed a woman in a group of couples smiling at me—as if my laugh had made her smile. It was such a simple, pure moment. Two strangers, enjoying the same sunset, sharing a flicker of silent joy.
It felt so human and so beautiful—an effortless connection. I felt my body begin to relax.
In our neighborhood, there’s a lively group chat. I only know about five people in the community, so most of the names are still unfamiliar. Every day, people post things like: “Where’s a good mechanic?” or “There’s a new restaurant in town,” or “Does anyone have a shovel I can borrow?”
Normally, I steer clear of group chats—they can feel like walking into a very loud and often opinionated room. But today, I had a question of my own. Wanting to be respectful, since the group is bilingual, I asked Google Translate how to write: Does anyone know of a dog sitter? I pasted the translated text into the chat.
Almost immediately, someone laughed at my translation. He tagged a friend who corrected my Spanish. Whether intentional or not, the tone felt shaming. I apologized and said I was still learning, and he replied with a casual, “We all are.”
Then a woman chimed in.
She thanked me for trying and said how much she appreciated the effort. Then she shared that my question was “beautifully phrased” and actually translated to: Do you know anyone who feels like a dog?—which made her laugh out loud in the best way. She said, “Quite frankly, many of us might relate to that. It made my morning.” With that, she gave me the name of a dog sitter.
I sat with her kindness for a moment—and burst into tears.
Because sometimes the world—my little world, and the big one too—just feels so hard.
And then I cried again, feeling so grateful for this woman’s gentleness. I decided to send her a private message. I thanked her for her kindness and told her how much it had touched my heart. She voice messaged me back, saying again how much my translation had made her smile. She told me how, when she’s out in the surf lineup, she feels self-conscious about her surf skills and always appreciates when someone offers her gentleness, too.
We had a beautiful exchange—two strangers connecting over shared vulnerability.
Right now, more than ever, I’m attuned to these small, ordinary acts of kindness between strangers—and how powerful they truly are. I share this with you because I imagine, in your corner of the world, you too feel how hungry the collective is for them.
These are the moments I’ve come to cherish. The ones that crack my heart open with gratitude and make me even more aware of my own energy and what I want to bring into every situation. Lately, I’ve been making more of an effort to spread kindness and delight, because honestly, it takes a lot of courage to be alive in this world.
Sunset Magic. Playa Grande, Costa Rica.
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SOUL ECHOES & INVITATION TO SHARE
Moments of Kindness
What small moments cracked your heart open this week?
When was the last time someone’s gentleness softened you?
How are you offering your humanity to others?
What would it look like to move through the world with more gentleness today?
