apartment therapy changing the world, one room at a time

"Wait", I said, "get off with me and I'll take you there." Jenny (her english name) was a student here to learn english. She'd never worked, never lived away from home before, indeed, had never travelled overseas or even more than a few hour's drive from her home in Osaka. As part of her english course, students had to get an english speaking work experience job, and hers was as a waitress at a local Thai restaurant. She was immaculate in her silk top and skirt, and four inch stilletto's. I explained that waitressing was a dirty, thankless and footsore job, gave her a cotton business shirt and some cheap ballet flats (which she valliantly tried to refuse, of course, and tucked in her bag). I drove her to the restaurant, and wished her luck.

As we drove, she fiddled with her phone. Pulling up at the restaurant, she presented me with a plastic geisha doll, which I immediately hung from my rear view mirror. Wishing her luck, I drove off. Later that week, I drove past the restaurant, slowly, to see if she was there. Wearing my white shirt and black shoes, with a plain black skirt, she was chatting to a customer and pointing to the menu.

A year later, I still have my geisha doll, albeit slightly faded from the Queensland sun, hanging in my car to remind me that a small act of kindness is a huge gift.

Thanks Maxwell, I hope this story is what you were after.