Adventures in Altruism: A Tangerine Prius And A Partridge In A Pear Tree
The emotional transitions during the holiday season can be a bit of a mystery. We fly into our respective hometowns in late November and spend hours cooking, eating, and relishing in one of the last familial treasures of our American pastime, Thanksgiving. This day of feasting on our respective culinary delicacies, arguing over Wikipedia defended viewpoints, and laughing at inappropriate jokes seems to vanish at 12:00AM. Black Friday crashes its way into our time of fellowship, erasing quality time with a blitzkrieg of discount notifications from our favorite merchants or inciting localized civil wars at department stores. The path to our next milestone, Christmas, is fraught with furrowed brows as confirmation pages refuse to load, guerrilla warfare tactics are exercised in Target parking lots, and the harrowing despair of a late delivery from Amazon Prime sends us into convulsions. This is America.
I’ve decided to rebel this year and pursue a path of prosocial behavior, helping those in need instead of sending myself into premature hypertension over e-commerce. My drug of choice this season is altruism as I yearn to see how my perspective shifts when I place the needs of others above my own. The abundance of opportunities to brighten someone’s day with a smile, hold a door for multiple entrants, or offer up a seat on public transit are the small dopamine hits that have encouraged me to go bigger in attempts to outdo my latest selfless act. Today I stumbled upon the mother-load and set a new personal standard for going above and beyond the call of duty.
My wife and I pulled into our parking spot after a long gym workout that left us sweaty, tired, yet satisfied at the calories we burned. I hopped out of the car and noticed two women that appeared frazzled and downtrodden. Upon the roof of their tangerine Prius rested a Christmas tree that measured the entire length of their car. This tree was big. Judging by their mutual expressions of hopelessness it was clear that their Christmas season was not off to a good start. My wife and I walked past this pitiful scene but something me told me stop and I asked my wife if I should help them out. My wife confirmed that this couple was in need so I gingerly jogged over to see how I could provide some reprieve.
“Need some help?” I asked casually.
The first woman who walked with a limp quickly responded, “Yes!”
Her partner, in a state of pure stubbornness and denial countered emphatically “No, we’re all set!”
At this moment if I left, I technically would be in the right. However, I looked at the tree and back at the two women who were shorter than their ecologically responsible citrus automobile and I knew that leaving would result in damage to their vehicle, tree, bodies, or all of the above.
“I’m happy to help as this tree looks pretty big. Now is not the time to be prideful!” I stated with compassion.
“We were in over our heads and purchased the biggest damn tree in the lot! We just wanted to have a nice Christmas! We could really use your help! My partner will never admit it, and we don’t know what to do!” the woman with the limp said with desperation.
I told them to stand back. I guesstimated that it would require 60% of my strength to hoist this tree from the roof onto the dolly. Like most men, I UNDERESTIMATED the task I signed up for, but also like most men in over their heads, sheer ego became the sole resource available to avoid humiliation or failure. When I grabbed the trunk for my initial lift, I knew this was going to be my second full-body workout of the day. My first attempt to lift the tree ended in no movement at all. Embarrassed but not broken, I fibbed to the women that I was testing out the best angle to heave their holiday sequoia. I muttered a quick prayer of strength and grace and embarked on a path to a future undiagnosed hernia, squeezing my eyes, pectorals, and biceps as I hauled the tree onto the dolly. The women thanked me graciously but my job was not yet over. This 60lb, 7 foot tree, was not going to be easily maneuvered underneath the 7 and 1/2 foot garage ceiling. It was also at this time that they graciously informed me that they were both suffering from recent injuries - a broken foot and the other had a facial fracture and back strain. I told them that this would make for a great episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm and soldiered on.
I made the tree parallel and dragged it across the garage into our vestibule. At this point I was actually tired, but as luck would have it these women did not live on the first floor! So… onto our building’s elevator, whose doorway was narrower than the width of the tree (Joy to the World!). We decided to break the base boards and shimmy the tree through. After a few scrapes on my arms and fingers, we wrestled it onto the wooden lift. As the sliding door shut and we began our slow ascent, they opened up to me unexpectedly. They told me the story of how this tree was the only Christmas decoration they had and with their injuries they were so worried that there wouldn’t be any spirit of Christmas in their home this year. This led to some sniffling, more grateful compliments, and them crowning me “King of Christmas” as we reached their floor.
After the final exodus of their evergreen through the elevator and into their apartment, I felt magical. As I hopped back into the now pine-scented lift with scratched hands that were sticky from the tree sap, my heart was full. I began to dwell on the simple yet necessary blessings that allowed me to be of service over the last ten minutes.
How incredible is it to be in good health to lift a tree?
How awesome is it that I was raised to have kind heart and help out others without expectation of something in return?
How critical was my decision to offer help again after I was told it wasn’t needed?
The holiday season is rife with opportunities to make someone’s day. Are we willing to go the extra mile to be rewarded only by a genuine smile or a word of gratitude? Can we give the best version of ourselves in the moment when we see our fellow man in need?
I believe we can.
So what’s your homework? Resist the desire to be selfish this season. Open yourself up to be someone’s hero or heroine by making yourself available to the adventures that occur in the land of altruism.
Happiest Holidays!
Chad J. Thomas