Feeling So Sick I Couldn’t Walk As a Stranger Practically Supported Me to a Bathroom.

Back when I was nineteenth year, my regular journey to work meant taking an packed public transport. It remained crowded and was consistently without any seats once I boarded.

One particular morning, I started experiencing quite nauseous when the coach lurched around every turn. I repeatedly told myself to hold on another few kilometres until the bus got to where I needed to get off, at which point I could sprint quickly for the nearest public toilet to vomit.

We were coming down the road leading to the destination as I realised I was unable to last. In an instant, it seemed a fog descended upon me. My vision turned white and really quiet; as if someone cut the sound. I said to myself, “I am about to pass out”.

Fortunately, I stood near the front on the bus, allowing me to take a couple of steps toward the driver and asked the driver to stop, informing him I was going to get ill. He promptly opened the bus doors and I weakly exited onto the sidewalk.

I was determined to not get sick before six lanes of traffic, so I picked myself up and endeavored to make my way across to the park opposite the street, thinking I could I’d at least be able to discreetly hide behind a bush to be sick. But then I must have fainted. I could feel my body but walking was impossible or see clearly, leading me to start dragging myself toward the grassy area.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, I got scooped up. I sensed someone holding me and heard a man say, “Are you okay, dear?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I required to get to a bathroom. Therefore, he almost carried me into an adjacent building and put me inside the women’s restroom. He asked me if I needed him to stay with me but I said no.

Not long after, I regained my composure to the point of sitting on the restroom floor and from outside the door came his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Do you need anything?” I wasn’t able to stand up right away but did manage to say thank you and shortly thereafter recovered the use of my limbs. I returned home passing several days getting over what was later diagnosed as a severe stomach virus.

I never saw the stranger’s face – just his lower half and a large metal toolbox he held – but he helped me, during a time when I was at my most vulnerable.

Often this world can make you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His act was the type of kindness that undoes that emotional callousness. He served as evidence that people’s natural inclination is to be kind, something I love about humanity.