“No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted” – Aesop

In this stage of my life, small acts of kindness are my love language. 

My husband and I have two kids, and our families live on the other side of the world; we’re separated by literal oceans, and a 15-hour time difference.

That kind of distance hits in different ways, but I try to focus on the positive ones.

Mainly, that separation from extended family spurs military spouses to build deep connections, and to do it more quickly than most.

Living on an island (and a military base), we have a unique need for community.

We need companionship to battle the loneliness, and guidance to navigate unfamiliar (and often nerve-wracking) territory. We thrive when we can be elbow to elbow with people we value, slogging it out together towards common goals.

Like SEAL candidates grinding through BUDs training, linking their arms to withstand the pounding surf, we are stronger as a unit than we could ever be alone. 

When we link arms, everything seems more manageable.

When we link arms, no one is an island (even though we live on one). Though commiserating about shared hardships can certainly bring people closer, sharing kindness seems like a healthier alternative, and has a more lasting outcome with deeper roots. 

I tend to find value in models that categorize people based on their personality traits. It helps me to understand myself; I often feel more like a mix of personalities taking turns being dominant than a cohesive, centered whole.

I’m a combination of a 2 and a 6 on the Enneagram (2 is known as The Helper, and 6 as the Loyalist). Acts of Service is my primary of the 5 Love Languages. 

I show love by serving others, and I feel loved when others do the same for me. 

Acts of Service essentially boils down to doing kind things for people you care about.

I try to be kind to the people in my house (my kids and my husband), and I try to be kind to the village outside of my house, too. 

Our village here on Guam is larger than I ever hoped it would be, and its foundation was built upon kindness. Big acts and small ones alike, kindness literally built the village, and sustains it. 

It comes across like a text from a friend: “I’m at the commissary, do you need anything?”

Or a hot coffee, toted back from the local coffee shop and hand-delivered. 

Sometimes it’s an offer of quality time: “When can I watch the kids so you guys can do date night?”

Other times, it’s cookies brought over to share after supper, or an extra pint of blueberries (my daughter loves them) from the more expensive grocery store out in town. 

Daily life with a supportive village looks an awful lot like swapping little acts of kindness. 

And those little acts add up to something huge. 

They add up to the reality that people on this island (and other places around the globe!) care about my day. They want to make it easier, or happier, or even just to help make it pass when it feels like it’s dragging. 

When my friends offer kindness, they’re offering up the fact that they took the time to think about me.

They remembered my favorite drink from that coffee shop.

They remembered that my daughter eats the blueberries faster than I can get them.

They realize that even though I went to the commissary yesterday, I probably already need something else. 

The fact that nearly all the friends in my village also have kids of their own adds an even deeper level of appreciation; as a mom of two, I know exactly how precious free time is. 

Someone’s time is literally something they will never get back again. And we each only get so much. 

I see all of this when others are kind to me, and to my family. And I hope that they see the same spirit reflected when I get to return the favor.

It’s not a balance of scales or debts owed, it’s a literal circle. What you give comes back around. How you treat others matters. 

Sometimes, it matters more than you will ever know. 

*To read more of Kaci’s work, check out her M:M Author Page.