Small Acts, Big Hearts: The Beauty of Kindness in Unexpected Moments

Small Acts, Big Hearts: The Beauty of Kindness in Unexpected Moments

Today, I’m sitting at my desk in the staff room, sipping on my favourite matcha and mint tea, the kind that makes you feel like life is poetic and peaceful for at least five minutes before the printer starts beeping gain 

As I take that first sip, I catch myself smiling. Why? Because I just had one of those sudden realisations that sneak up on you in the most ordinary moments: sometimes, what feels small to you might mean everything to someone else.

This morning, I walked into the staff room, gave my usual cheerful “Ohayō gozaimasu!”, and started setting up my desk. Then, one of the teachers came up to me with the brightest smile ever.

“Please, Ms. Jez, accept my gift,” she said, handing me a little gift bag 

Now, my brain is doing somersaults trying to figure out what’s going on, did I win something? Is this another round of ‘guess the snack’?

I opened the gift bag and… behold, a packet of flour.

Flour!

My eyes widened as if someone had just handed me gold dust. “Arigatō gozaimasu!” I said, trying not to sound too surprised, because, really, flour? But then I saw a small note: 

Thank you for helping my son.

A few weeks ago, while chatting with this teacher by the printer (you know those random teacher bonding sessions that happen when you’re waiting for worksheets to come out one page per century?), she mentioned her son was preparing for a spelling bee. I shared some English practice platforms and grammar tricks.

We ended up talking about Halloween parties, pumpkin treats, and baking, and I casually mentioned that I couldn’t find the flour I usually use in Japan. She even Googled pictures to help me find something close.

And that was that. Or so I thought.

Today, that simple, forgotten moment of kindness returned in the form of a pocket of flour and honestly, it felt like a warm hug. Her son didn’t make it to the next stage of the spelling bee, but she was still grateful. That’s when it hit me, kindness doesn’t always come back as you expect it, but it always finds its way back.

Living in Japan as an African woman, I’ve realised kindness truly transcends language, culture, and even age.

Once, an elderly Japanese man at the train station helped me carry my heavy grocery bag down the stairs. When I thanked him with my best “arigatō gozaimashita”, he smiled and said, “Kibō wa kokoro ni aru” (Hope is in the heart).

In Zimbabwe, we’d say, “Rudo runokunda zvose” love conquers all.

Different languages. Same spirit.

Then there was the time a fellow ALT forgot her umbrella, and a student ran after her in the rain, soaked to the bone, just to hand it over. That’s Japan for you, where even a tiny gesture carries a universe of thoughtfulness.

And it reminded me of something Jesus said in Luke 6:38:

“Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over…”

When you give, whether it’s your time, advice, or just genuine attention, it comes back to you in unexpected ways. Maybe not immediately, but always perfectly timed.

Sometimes, kindness looks like sharing food.

Sometimes, it’s just listening.

Sometimes, it’s flour in a box.

I remember once in Zimbabwe, my neighbour Mai Fildah, would always say, “Zvipo zvakanaka hazvibvi mukupfuuma, asi mukufunga zvakanaka.”

(Good gifts don’t come from wealth, but from good thoughts.)

And that’s the thing. Whether in Harare or Tokyo, it’s the small, thoughtful things that knit us closer as humans.

Let’s be honest, sometimes kindness shows up in funny ways too.

Like when I tried to return a student’s lost pencil case and ended up being handed a whole thank-you letter and origami heart, now pinned proudly on my desk. Or when I helped an elderly lady at the supermarket self-checkout, and she insisted on buying me a pack of matcha KitKats as a thank you. (Best. Deal. Ever.)

I think God smiles when He sees these little exchanges, people unknowingly living out His love, one thoughtful act at a time.

If there’s one thing this morning’s flour gift reminded me of, it’s this:

You never know who’s being blessed by your small acts.

Keep smiling. Keep helping. Keep sharing love, in whatever form it comes.

Because sometimes, God uses your ordinary to sprinkle a little extraordinary into someone else’s life.

“Let all that you do be done in love.” 1 Corinthians 16:14

Now excuse me while I finish my tea before the next class, and maybe, just maybe, bake something special with that flour.