One of the reasons I find quotes so inspiring is their succinct memorability.
Quotations are useful snippets gleaned from the larger, sometimes unwieldy instruction manuals of life. They are not the poem, nor the speech, nor the short story, nor the book from which they are excerpted.
But they are concise, insightfully delivered declarations that illuminate a concept, a principle, or a meaningful pathway woven through a broader work of voice or pen.
Two of the most prolific authors of quotes are Unknown and Anonymous, who, in addition to countless named writers and speakers, contribute significantly to the genre, which includes this unattributed favorite: "In a world where you can be anything, be kind."
It's all over the Internet, from memes to posters to cups to T-shirts, and alludes to a human trait that is too frequently found in short supply these days.
A deed is worth 1,000 quotes, and on a trip last week I was blessed to be on the receiving end of some random acts of kindness.
I'm hardly a frequent flier, so I arrived at check-in with an old-school paper printout instead of a digital code on my smartphone like my fellow passengers.
The friendly skies attendant at the Delta terminal smiled and let me speak first, so I explained that I wasn't sure exactly what I needed to do besides show up with my ticket confirmation.
She cheerfully asked if I wanted to get my boarding pass, to which I nodded.
I'm long-legged, and aircraft seats can be a little cramped, so I wondered aloud if she could check for available exit-row seating. To my good fortune, she reassigned my seat.
Our flight was slightly delayed, so by the time I arrived in Atlanta the layover window had shrunk and I had to hurry to get to the next gate. When I asked for exit-row seating, the attendant there regretfully shook her head.
This plane was slightly smaller, and as I sat down in my window seat, my knees weren't up in my chest, but I couldn't stretch out, either. It was only an hour-and-a-half flight, I was telling myself, when a shorter woman in the aisle leaned toward me and gestured.
"Would you like my seat?" she asked. She pointed over to a seat right beside the emergency exit door, with an open row directly in front.
In my confusion, I hesitated. I hadn't said anything on the plane to anyone about wanting an exit row. Had she heard me ask at the gate?
I finally found voice enough to stammer out a "yes!" and "thank you so much" before scooting across the aisle and settling into the legroom nirvana of seat 21E.
On my return flight the next day, the plane for the first leg was full and I couldn't get an exit row, but at least I had an aisle seat.
Arriving at the gate during a layover in Atlanta, I frowned because the information panel listed a different flight, which was boarding.
My flight was delayed by a little more than an hour, one of the busy attendants told me.
I waited next to the counter while she finished her work with the other flight. Then, with a "mission accomplished" sigh, she turned her attention to my inquiring expression.
Nope, no exit-row seats, she said, poking at the keyboard. It was a full flight. As I nodded resignedly, she added, "Give me your name, and if anything comes open, I'll let you know."
I did, and thanked her, and then pondered my two-hour wait. After thoroughly sightseeing Concourse C and grabbing a snack, I returned to the gate to find it overflowing. The flight was not only full, but overbooked.
It was late, I was tired of standing in line and already dreading my drive home from the airport, when I wearily handed my boarding pass to the attendant.
She started to routinely swipe it and mindlessly recite "Thank you, Mr. Kel--" when she paused. Barely missing a beat, she quickly repeated "Thank you, Mr. Kelley" and pushed a piece of paper into my hand.
It was a new boarding pass, with an exit-row seat assignment.
It happened fast, and the line surged forward. I tried to wave and smile as I was swept forward, but she was back on robotic task, scanning passes and thanking passengers.
Small kindnesses from strangers do wonders for the soul, not to mention my physical comfort in that instance.
I don't know anything about those people. I don't know their politics, their situations, their struggles, their worries. They don't know mine.
What I do know is that in a world where they could be anything, they chose to be kind to me.
Which reminds me of another quote: "Everything that is really great and inspiring is created by the individual who can labor in freedom." -- Albert Einstein
Small acts in the practice of good life and liberty may not make headlines, but they make the most difference. Remember that, especially in a testy election year.
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Dana D. Kelley is a freelance writer from Jonesboro.
Editorial on 02/21/2020