“’I don’t take walking for granted anymore.’ Those are the powerful words he uttered as he held open the door for my two little boys and me.
I’d noticed him walking along the sidewalk as we approached the glass doors, but I didn’t expect him to yell out for me to wait, to beg me to allow him to hold that door for us.
And I just thought he saw a mom with two sweet but wild little boys and wanted to lend a helping hand, a way to show love to a stranger.
And I was beaming, so grateful to him for the kind gesture.
Managing these little boys of mine can sometimes be a struggle, a bit of a circus, so his tiny act was a bit grander in my eyes.
But that’s when he told me.
This stranger, this man I’d never seen before, told me that he wanted to hold the door open for us because he can.
Simply because his body is able to do so.
He didn’t think he’d ever be able to hold open doors for strangers again.
He shouldn’t have even been alive.
Because many years ago, after suffering a stroke, he died.
He was pronounced dead.
And when he awoke, it was a miracle.
But he would still never walk again. Still never talk again.
Yet, there he was, walking to hold the door for us, telling me his story.
And all this as I was entering the studio where I go to work out each day—the place where, without a second thought, I move and push myself and challenge my body in ways that others only dream of.
So, as I stood there staring at my reflection in the mirror that day, watching myself work my muscles until they shook, I didn’t see what I usually see.
I didn’t see the stretch marks.
I didn’t see that little pooch from carrying my babies.
I didn’t see the extra weight my hips now bear.
I didn’t see the dimples sprinkled along the backs of my thighs.
I saw legs that can walk, can run, can climb.
I saw arms that can carry and lift and snuggle my boys.
I saw hands that can hold my husband’s.
I saw feet that can take me wherever it is I want to go.
I saw a body that can open doors for others.
Without even thinking about it.
Without wondering if I can; without fearing that I cannot.
So I don’t want to take walking for granted anymore.
I don’t want to take my body for granted anymore.
All its flaws, the ones that my eyes tend to lock in on the very moment I drink my imperfect reflection in each morning?
Yeah, I don’t want to fret over those.
And I think I’ll start holding doors open for strangers more often.
Because I can.
And I’m so grateful to that man, that stranger who reminded me of what an incredible blessing that seemingly small act of kindness truly is.”
This story was written by Krista Ward of Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward. Follow her on Instagram here. The article originally appeared on her Facebook page here. Submit your story here, and be sure to subscribe to our best love stories here.
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