Feeling So Sick Walking Was Impossible As a Stranger Practically Supported Me to a Bathroom.

During my my late teens, my morning travel was on an crowded coach. The vehicle was always crowded and would always be standing room only by the time I boarded.

On one specific day, I was feeling incredibly sick while the vehicle rocked around every turn. I kept telling myself to endure another few kilometres so the bus could got to where I needed to get off, and then I could rush hurriedly to the closest public restroom to be sick.

We were coming down the avenue close to the stop when I understood I was unable to hold on. In an instant, it seemed a curtain fell over me. My vision turned blank and silent; like someone had cut the sound. I said to myself, “I will lose consciousness”.

Fortunately, I stood close to the driver inside the vehicle, so I managed several steps toward the driver and requested that the driver to open the doors, explaining to him that I was about to get ill. He promptly opened the entrance and I stumbled out on to the pavement.

My intention was to avoid being sick in front of six lanes of traffic, so I forced myself up and began attempting to walk toward the green space opposite the street, where I thought I’d at least be able to find some privacy near some foliage to be sick. However I must have blacked out. I could feel my physical self, yet I couldn’t walk or see properly, so I began crawling towards the grassy area.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, I got scooped up. There was an arm around my waist and heard a man say, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the mysterious stranger that I had to to vomit. So he virtually carried me down into an adjacent building and placed me in the ladies’ toilets. He wanted to know if I wanted him to stay with me but I refused.

A few minutes later, I felt better to the point of sitting down and from outside the door came him ask, “Do you need anything, love? Can I get you something?” I wasn’t able to rise just then but did manage to say thank you and following a brief period recovered the use of my legs. I returned home and then spent several days healing from what turned out to be a horrible case of gastroenteritis.

I never glimpsed that man’s face – only his legs along with a sizable container for tools he had with him – but he saved me, at a moment I was in my weakest state.

Often this world has a way of making you guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that hardening of the heart. He served as evidence that our default setting leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish in other people.