I Was So Ill I Was Unable to Walk As a Stranger Practically Supported Me to a Bathroom.

Back when I was nineteenth year, my daily commute meant taking an express bus. It remained full and would always be without any seats when I stepped aboard.

On one specific day, I was feeling quite nauseous when the coach lurched around each corner. I kept telling myself to persevere just a little longer before the bus arrived at where I needed to get off, at which point I could make a mad dash toward the most convenient public restroom to be sick.

We were coming down the road leading to my stop and it dawned on me I would not be to last. Suddenly, it seemed a veil came over me. Everything just went white and really quiet; as if someone cut the sound. I thought, “I will lose consciousness”.

Luckily I was close to the driver on the bus, allowing me to take a few steps forward and requested that the driver to open the doors, explaining to him I needed to vomit. He opened the entrance and I weakly exited onto the sidewalk.

I was resolved to avoid being sick in front of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and endeavored to make my way across to the park on the other side, where I thought I’d at least be able to discreetly hide among some shrubs to vomit. But then I must have fainted. I sensed my body but I couldn’t walk and my vision was blurry, so I started dragging myself toward my intended destination.

“Are you okay, dear?”

Right then, I was lifted up. I felt someone holding me and heard a man say, “Are you okay, dear?” I explained to this kind passerby that I needed to vomit. So he virtually helped me walk into an adjacent building and guided me in the ladies’ toilets. He wanted to know if I needed him to remain with me but I refused.

Not long after, I felt better sufficiently to sit on the toilet when from beyond the door I heard his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Is there anything you require?” I wasn’t able to rise right away but I did succeed to say thank you and shortly thereafter recovered the use of my legs. I returned home and spent several days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I did not see the stranger’s face – just his lower half and a large container for tools he was carrying – but he saved me, when I was completely helpless.

Many times, life can make you guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that emotional callousness. He demonstrated that our default setting is to be kind, a trait I cherish about humanity.