I was 8 1/2 months pregnant with my first child. I was miserable. My feet were swollen twice their normal size. My back hurt so bad I thought I was going to die. I was HUGE, and I felt like a baby elephant. I was determined to work as long as possible because we needed the money, and because I didn't want to sit in the non-air conditioned home we had just purchased and stare at the many projects I needed to do, but was too pregnant to begin.
At the time, I was working in a 4-attorney office, and George Littlefield was the senior partner. One day during a quiet lunch hour, I was so exhausted that I decided to take a 10-minute nap. There was a couch in George's private office, and I curled up and went to sleep. Unfortunately, I slept hard and woke up an hour and a half later. To my horror, I discovered that George had tiptoed into his office, grabbed the project he was working on, and taken it to the conference room to work so that I could continue to sleep. Obviously, I thanked him profusely through my embarrassment, but I was (and still am) quite touched that he took pity on me and was so compassionate.
We never know how long our little acts of kindness will be remembered. I'm sure that in the hot summer of 1977, George wasn't thinking that I would still be touched in 2011, long after his death, from that little act of kindness. As I go through this week, I'm going to think about George each day. I'm going to seek to do little acts of kindness each day.