26 Acts of Kindness - Day 15

Today's Act of Kindness was in honor of Anne Marie Murphy, age 52. Mrs. Murphy had a master's degree in education and worked as a special education teacher in Miss Soto's class. She was assigned to work directly with little Dylan Hockley, who adored her. 

Mrs. Murphy had worked at Sandy Hook for years. She loved her job and the children she worked with. Hauntingly, after the tragic events of September 11th, she and a fellow educator had a conversation about what they would do if a terrorist ever entered their schools. The woman told reporters that Anne Marie did exactly what she had said she would in that conversation more than decade before: she shielded her students with her own body in an attempt to protect them. She was found cradling Dylan Hockley and several other students.

Anne Marie, known to her family and close friends as "Annie," loved her family - she was a wife, and the mother of four children. Everything that I read about her said that her family was her life. There isn't much information on the life of Anne Marie online. What I found said she loved taking walks outside, that she had also been a piano teacher and that she was a lover of the Arts.

When I read that over the weekend in preparation for this Act of Kindness I recalled that I had gotten a Groupon in my emails for the Portland Art Museum. I went back through my emails and tracked it down. I purchased the deal (two tickets for the price of one), then I noticed the Museum wasn't open on Mondays - that's why Mrs. Murphy was pushed to today. 

I hopped on the Max light rail this afternoon to head downtown to the Art Museum. I picked a seat close to the heater (it was cold today!) and sat down, then I glanced out the window. On the windowsill were three colorful origami paper cranes. I smiled, snapped a photo of them - they were a welcome site - and posted it on Facebook. But it wasn't until later this evening that I started thinking about those paper cranes a little bit more. I recalled a book I read in elementary school about a girl in Japan who was dying of cancer and made a goal to fold 1000 paper cranes, and there was something about what the Cranes symbolized that I couldn't recall. I Googled the story this evening. Her name was Sadako Sasaki and she developed leukemia from the radioactive fallout of the bombing of Hiroshima. She only made it to 644 before her death, but her classmates finished the other 356 in her honor.

When looking for the symbolism of the crane I found this:

Today this practice of folding 1,000 cranes represents a form of healing and hope during challenging times. After the events of September 11, as a gesture of support and healing, thousands of cranes were folded and linked together in chains and sent to fire and police stations, museums, and churches throughout New York City. 

Traditionally, flocks of 1,000 cranes are offered at shrines or temples with prayer, based on the belief that the effort to fold such a large number will surely be rewarded. Chains are often given to someone suffering from illness, as a prayer for their recovery, as a wish for happiness, and as an expression of sympathy and peace.  

A prayer often spoken over time by mothers seeking the protection of cranes has been: 

            “O flock of heavenly cranes - cover my child with your wings.”

Suddenly those cranes on the train today had a whole new meaning. I am left wondering if someone out there is folding 1000 cranes and leaving them in random places as a gesture of hope and healing after the loss we all suffered on December 14th. 

I certainly hope that's why they were there. And I'm so glad I found them at my seat today.

I made it downtown, hopped off the train and ran to the Museum (literally - it was part of my workout today). I went inside and handed my Groupon receipt to the lady at the ticket booth, along with two Acts of Kindness cards. I told her I was doing a random act of kindness and would like her to give the cards and the tickets to the next two people who came in behind me. She was confused. I told her again: just give my two tickets to the people in back of me along with those cards. She asked what it was all about. I told her I was doing 26 Act of Kindness in honor of the Sandy Hook victims and today's was for Mrs. Murphy who was a patron of the arts and I thought she would appreciate this. She still looked puzzled as I walked away. Perhaps I should have just asked for the tickets myself and handed them to the people who, by that time, were directly in back of me - a man in full cycling gear (yes, only in Portland will you find someone walking into an art museum decked out in exercise gear), and a mother with her toddler son. 

I hope that the ticket lady fully comprehended what I was doing and that the tickets made it to these individuals. And I hope that they appreciated the gesture in honor of a true hero.

Thank you, Annie.

"Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it." - Helen Keller