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

At the age of nineteenth year, my daily commute involved an crowded coach. It remained jammed and would always be without any seats once I boarded.

During a certain commute, I was feeling quite nauseous as the bus rocked around each corner. I kept telling myself to hold on just a little longer so the bus could got to my stop, at which point I could make a mad dash to the closest washroom to throw up.

The bus was approaching the road leading to my stop and I realised I wasn’t going to hold on. Suddenly, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. My vision turned blank and silent; like someone had muted everything. I thought, “I will lose consciousness”.

Fortunately, I stood close to the driver of the bus, so I took a couple of steps to ask the driver and asked the driver to pull over, telling him that I was about to vomit. He promptly opened the entrance and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.

My intention was not to vomit in front of multiple lanes of cars, so I gathered myself and started trying to make my way to the park opposite the street, where I believed I could at least discreetly hide near some foliage to be sick. But then I must have fainted. I was aware of my limbs, but walking was impossible and my vision was blurry, so I began crawling towards my intended destination.

“Are you okay, dear?”

Right then, someone picked me up. I felt someone holding me and heard a man say, “Are you okay, dear?” I told this kind passerby that I needed to get to a bathroom. Therefore, he almost supported my weight into a close-by structure and guided me into the female bathroom. He wanted to know whether I required him to stay with me but I said no.

After a short while, I felt better to the point of sitting down and from the other side of the door came his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Is there anything you require?” I wasn’t able to get up at that moment but I did succeed to express my gratitude and shortly thereafter regained the function of my limbs. I made my way home passing several days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I did not see his features – merely his legs and a large steelwork tools container he was carrying – but he helped me, when I was at my most vulnerable.

Often this world tends to make people guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that emotional callousness. He was proof that our default setting is to be kind, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.