Hidden Grace and Hot Soup
In our digitally intertwined, always-on lives, one of the more startling windows into another person's day is the accidental connection: the butt-dialed call, the mis-addressed email or text. Yesterday I answered the phone and heard a friend cussing at some "moron" in traffic. Another friend in a distant city used to treat me to the rhythmic thump and crunch of his footsteps, my "Hello? Hello?" hopelessly muffled in his pocket. I myself have texted articles, cat pics, and geeky technical notes to hapless souls whose names happened to live virtually above or below the intended recipient.
Last week, though, a message meant for someone else was pure poignancy. My longtime client and friend Stacy Lyn Harris, whose life is as busy as anyone's on the planet—she's a lawyer and wild game chef who grows her own food and has raised and homeschooled seven kids—accidentally sent me a message meant for her daughter-in-law. That's how, amid an exchange about SEO optimization, I got a glimpse of her private kindness toward someone in her extended family circle. What moved me was that she wasn't applauding herself for doing good; she was expressing gratitude for the chance to do it. Not surprisingly, her caring involved the sharing of food, her love language.
Here at the dark, cold start of 2026, as national riptides threaten to pull us Americans far from shore and each other, every small kindness feels worth cradling: This is who we are—people who lift and help each other without a fuss; people who show hospitality to strangers, out of simple decency and because they may be angels in disguise. I find myself collecting examples of everyday goodness and stacking them like driftwood. When I have enough, maybe I can build a life raft.
Or a bonfire. In this epic cold snap, I'm shivering as the furnace struggles to keep this 100-year-old, high-ceilinged house warm. The crockpot has been on since morning, and a large bowl of chicken soup just warmed my hands as well as my stomach. This simple, cross-cultural meal always makes me feel as if generations of mothers and grandmothers are gathered in my kitchen, their ghostly hands stirring the pot and adding a pinch of salt.
If some chicken soup would warm you, too, here is Stacy Lyn's recipe for Caldo de Pollo with pico de gallo to provide a little extra heat. I also recommend her lovely cookbook and memoir, Love Language of the South.
Stacy Lyn
If you feel like it, please share your own stories of kindness in the comments.
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