This is my “Love, Lauren” card. I made sure to leave it with anyone that received something of

monetary value from my fundraiser and Acts of Kindness day.

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Bringing joy and wonder into my daily experiences is a gift that I love to share with others. By focusing on dedicating my birthday to an annual acts-of-kindness day, it has given me the fortune of spreading love and feeling love in return. What a joy to have been gifted a life. Happiest of birthdays to me <3

 

 

How It Happened:​​

     After announcing that I intended to celebrate my 23rd birthday by crossing this item off of my bucket list, I was fortunate to receive donations from friends and family in order to increase the amount of giving I could do. Besides the free hugs, almost all of my actions came with some cost, so the funds were much appreciated. As a way to thank my donors, I created the retelling of the events shown below in order to share my day with them.

It was the most heartwarming and loving day.

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- Love, Lauren -

My day started with breakfast at a café with one of my roommates and some of his friends. To complete my random act of kindness there, I asked the cashier to keep my debit card and pay for the family behind me. That way it was anonymous. I also asked her to give them one of my “Love, Lauren” cards. As I sat down, I got caught up in conversation at my own table, so I missed the exchange that the cashier had with the family of four. But, I did get to witness something wonderful thereafter; as they sat down, they each took turns taking selfies with my “Love, Lauren” letter. They propped the letter up against their table number and kind of just kept referencing it and smiling through their conversation.

Witnessing that made me feel a way I don’t think I have felt before; it was touching to quietly observe someone celebrate me without even knowing who I was. That was a pretty incredible emotion. As they stood up to leave, I couldn’t help but introduce myself. I was so excited to meet them and wish them a happy day. We exchanged hugs and had a brief chat. I encouraged them to pass it on before we went our separate ways.  

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-Is This Normal?-

Next I went to The Downtown Market with my Free Hugs sign. There I met Peter from Thailand and Wooyoung from Korea. They wanted to know if “free hugs” were a normal part of Western society. I explained that although I have seen one other person do it before, it isn’t a common occurrence. “Then why do you do this?” they inquired. I was invited to sit with them as I explained my cause, and then I stuck around while they finished their meal. Before I knew it, we were caught up in conversation and found ourselves exchanging knowledge about cancer cell metastasis, glycolysis, and ketogenesis, all of which are things we either studied in college or currently work on. It was fun to connect with them over our interests, but I do admit that the details of their recent work went over my head, haha! We exchanged numbers and I went on my way.

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-Mental Preparation-

I’ve given free hugs twice prior to my day of kindness. Starting a free hugs marathon is always a bit nerve wracking; it’s a very vulnerable position to put yourself in. People have to choose to come up to you, and they could very easily decide to ignore you instead. Many questions ran through my head at the start: Should I make eye contact with others? Will they feel obligated to hug me? Do I just look awkward? What if no one wants a hug? What if someone with poor intentions takes advantage of the opportunity? But, after walking around in the market some, my nerves settled. As always, people either smiled politely as they passed by, or they ran up excitedly to receive their hug. As I got more comfortable, I challenged myself to make an effort to visit the people that society avoids the most: the homeless.

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-Unexpected Encounters-

Down the street from the market was a park heavily populated by a homeless community. I admit I was apprehensive about walking through. As I did, I instantly went from fitting in to being a minority, which is something I don’t experience often. Even just visually, I was an outsider. Pair that with my big white sign and the unusual offer of free hugs, and everyone was staring. But, it didn’t take long before a middle-aged man piped up and said, “Now that would be the highlight of my day!” Soon others began to gather around. It quickly turned into a pleasant assembly. Many wanted to know who I was and what I was doing in town. After finding out I had just graduated with a degree in biology, one man inquired about my knowledge of epigenetics. Through our conversation, I learned that he was a very intelligent man who seemed to have fallen into homelessness as the result of an addiction to alcohol. He expressed that the most difficult part of being homeless is that no one wants to talk to him; “I’ve learned about many topics that I would love to discuss with others. But when you’re homeless, everyone avoids you.  I get lonely without other intellectuals, and I worry I might go dumb if I’m stuck on the streets for long.”

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- His name was Tony -

Next I walked to Rosa Parks Circle in downtown Grand Rapids, giving out hugs along the way. There, live jazz music was playing for the community. As I got to the grassy edge of the circle, a tall frail man suddenly appeared a few feet in front of me. He had kind eyes that were hidden below bushy eyebrows and above dirty cheeks. His right temple was scabbed over, and his lip seemed to have been busted open a few days prior. Blood stained his teeth. He emerged out of nowhere, and I got the impression that I caught him off guard just as much as he did me. When he saw my sign, it struck him differently than it had others; I could see him curl inwards in defeat as he failed to suppress his tears. His head sunk back towards his shoulders, and his arms gingerly wrapped around his torso as if he was attempting to hold himself together. After a few moments, he gathered himself enough to make eye contact and then welcomed the embrace, where he freely sobbed in my arms. Through his tears, I had a hard time understanding what he had to say, but I gathered a few things. I learned that a few nights prior he had gotten beaten up under a bridge while he slept; sounds like someone wanted to take from him what little he had. This middle-aged man had undoubtedly been homeless for quite some time. He was weathered, literally. You could tell by the way he moved that his joints were sore from sleeping on the streets.

As our conversation developed, I began to understand why the sight of me made him cry. For one, I get the impression that he has begun to lose hope in finding kind people. Secondly, he apparently has a daughter about my age whom he hasn’t seen in quite some time. He said I reminded him of her.

We sat down in the grass to talk some more, and Tony’s friend Terry came over to join us. Together, the three of us sat in the lawn and chatted. I quickly recognized that it was a unique scene to passerbys; as we conversed, both of them each held one of my hands in their own. I couldn’t help but notice how leathery and soiled their hands were. They reminded me of how my dad’s hands feel when he comes home from long day of working in the field. But, unlike my dad, Tony and Terry don’t have a place to call home.

In an effort to do more than just offer kind words and a warm embrace, I gave Tony and Terry a subway gift card that I purchased with donation money from my fundraiser. They were touched that so many of my loved ones were interested in helping me give to the community.

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-The Travelers-

My next monetary gift was a Meijer gift card that went to another homeless couple, but their story was much different. Becky and John each looked like any other citizen walking down the street. Seeing them, you couldn’t tell that they were homeless. They were well kept and had a spring in their step. The bags they carried gave me the impression that they were travelers backpacking around the country. I quickly learned that they were in fact traveling, but only from one homeless shelter to another. Reality hit when I realized that the 3 bags they carried contained all of their belongings. They weren’t vacationing; they were living their lives.

Becky told me, “I never thought I would be homeless; I’ve lived a normal life. I just found myself in a series of failed business attempts. So here I am.” John was homeless because a brain injury had brought about heavy medical costs a few months prior, and his employment at the time didn't offer insurance. They were just two people living a life that happened to be the wrong combination of circumstances. No poor choices, just poor luck. Both have a goal to get off of the street before winter comes. They were very appreciative of the Meijer card that I gave them. I told them that I wished I could do more. But John shook his head and said, “Really, what means the most is knowing that other people care about us. We aren’t any less valuable of humans just because we don’t have homes anymore. I think people forget that.”

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- Étreintes en toute liberté –

Next I caught a couple inside of Parsley and paid for their dinner. On my way out I caught a glimpse of a woman named Sierra, who was rushing over to me for her fair share of hugs. Sierra and Steven were very excited about my sign. They were a beautiful couple; I really enjoyed their energy! They eagerly invited me to join them while the sipped on their drinks.

While I spoke to them about how my day was going, a man in his upper 30s piped up from the table nearby and said, “excuse me, what does your sign mean?” He was from France and was visiting Grand Rapids for the week on a business trip. At first I thought he meant he didn't understand the words in translation from English to French, but then he clarified that he really just didn't know how to hug. Turns out, at least in area that he is from, they don’t really hug in France. Instead, they either shake hands or give each other kisses on the cheek. So, I taught him how to hug. It was a touching moment. He got this really innocent smile on his face, like a kid learning how to do something for the first time. Haha, hugs are fun! He then introduced himself; his name was Laurent. How ironic! He offered to share his pita bread with me, so I joined him for lunch. We talked about our experiences of traveling for about an hour and a half. When I excused myself to leave, he softly said again, “Pardon me, but before you leave, may we do that again?.. What do you call it? I like it.” We hugged, smiled, and I went on my way.

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