Backstory: This is one of my favorite things to do. Some people call it a “Random Act of Kindness,” and I can’t recall why I started calling it a “Fairy Deed”. Maybe because the idea started out as something that I did under the cover of darkness, while the recipient was sleeping, much like the Tooth Fairy delivers her presents.
I have been doing these deeds for years, sometimes mailing lottery tickets to a selection of friends or delivering a basket of lemons and small bag of sugar to someone I knew was going through a rough time (encouraging her to turn those lemons—especially the figurative ones—into lemonade). Other times I have paid for the coffee or parking fee for the stranger behind me in line, anything that might brighten someone’s day. The deed does not need it be expensive or grand, but the key, for me, is that it must be anonymous. That is what makes it so much fun.
Plus, I think about how much I love a surprise and how infrequently I get them. When was the last time I received a package that I hadn’t ordered myself? When was the last time I got flowers or a gift for no particular reason? When was the last time I was delighted by a random act of kindness? Here’s my chance to do that for someone else.
What Happened: All week long I thought about who I might select as the recipient of my Fairy Deed. Since the key is to be anonymous, I ruled out friends who might see this post and those who know me well enough that they would immediately suspect me.
I also thought about what I might do. Sadly, because we now worry about acts of terrorism, I ruled out sending an unsigned letter or package. I thought of sending a bouquet to a work colleague with a silly note signed “Anonymous”, but worried she might think she’d attracted a stalker. What a sorry world we live in that we have to consider these concerns!
Finally, I decided to focus on an elderly neighbor, Mrs. W., who is housebound. Our lilac tree is in bloom, so I clipped a few branches, wrapped them up, and hoped this small offering might bring her some cheer.
With my heart beating in my chest, I started out the front door, then stopped myself as another neighbor pulled into his driveway. I raised a hand in greeting, then pretended to pick up a newspaper off the porch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him head up his steps, and I heard his door click shut. Mission back on. Like a thief in the night, I made my way down the street, only to spot a couple I didn’t know heading toward me. Dang it! I hid the flowers behind my back and made an abrupt left into our side yard as if I were, oh, I don’t know, inspecting the progress of the weeds. Geez! Once they’d passed, I looked left-right-left, then dashed across the street. Hoping Mrs. W. wasn’t looking out her front window, I involuntarily crouched down a bit—’cause that wouldn’t make me look suspicious! Like a grown-up Ding-Dong Ditcher, I crept up the steps, gently placed the bouquet on her doorstep, snapped a photo, and sprinted back toward home.
Safely back in my living room, I had to laugh at myself. I felt like a total goof, but a happy one. I peered through my front window to see if I’d missed any witnesses, and was a little disappointed that my view of Mrs. W.’s porch was obstructed. I’m sure one of her caretakers will find the flowers, and I hope they give Mrs. W. even a portion of the pleasure my deed has brought me.
The Ah-Hah: There are all sorts of ways to get a boost of adrenaline. Most are not healthy, but I think this Fairy Deed business is. And it’s legal! The cost, too, was minimal: a sheet of wrapping paper, a bit of twine, flowers from the garden. The joy it gave me, meanwhile, was priceless.
