When was the last time you said something lovely to a total stranger?

Since July I’ve been trying to get Mum and Dad’s much loved garden back under control so Dad has a nice space to look out at.  The garden is bordered by hedges, which are bordered by roads.  I did the insides…but the outsides needed to be attacked.  And I rather like the hedge cutter 😈.  What I am less keen on is the speed that rather large cars and lorries zoom up the road which doesn’t have a pavement . And also ladders.  I get really panicky at the top of ladder height…

So I created a hi vis situation with a spare ladder and cones:

Grabbed dads hedge cutter:

And two weeks ago I did one side:

And this week I did (most) of the end (my arms weren’t quite long enough):

And then the other side:

And while I absolutely wanted to show off my (imperfect) handiwork, and proudly tell you that I didn’t fall of the ladder (quite) and I didn’t get run over – even once.  In fact I only fell over once, and luckily I fell into the basket of leaves that I’d just dropped so I had a soft landing…

…What I really wanted to tell you was this:  Lots and lots of people drove past.  Some were visibly annoyed that they had to slow down on what can be a very fast road (although I did end up on waving terms with the farmer doing repeated trips on his tractor who was also slowing down a fair few people).  And then one lady stopped.  I was worried I was about to get told off for blocking the road, but she leant over the passenger seat while her small dog sitting there snoofed in my direction, and told me what I great job I was doing.  She told me she was a gardener and her husband was moving from decorating to hedge cutting and she thought I’d done really well.  She said she didn’t think she’d have been brave enough to do the reaching at the top of the ladder I’d done on her own.  It almost made my eyes leak.

My Dad is hugely appreciative of what I have done as he did it for many years and knows the effort involved.  It meant such a lot though, that a stranger thought to stop and tell me I’d done well.  It’s like when a stranger tells you they like your boots.  It’s lovely hearing it from a friend or Mr R, but it takes on a bit more when someone thinks enough of your boots or your hedge cutting to stop and tell you.  It creates a different sort of smile inside.

So, I wonder if maybe the next time you notice something positive about a stranger, you’ll tell them and give them that lovely smile inside?  🙂