Good People in Disguise

Mitch Arnold • March 16, 2024

I was almost finished with my workout the other day, when a gym newbie took over the last piece of equipment I needed. I had seen this guy a couple of times earlier in the week, and completely misjudged his character. The encounter that ensued had me walking away, sheepishly ashamed of my judgement and reinvigorated by a random act of kindness.


One of the blessings I enjoy from my handicap is being the beneficiary of random acts of kindness. There are exceptions, of course, but for the most part, my handicap brings out the best in people, even people I’ve never met. Strangers open doors for me and go out of their way to greet me. Restaurant managers often stop by my table, just to see how I’m doing. A lady in church routinely brings me communion without me needing to ask. Those are the people I don’t know.


The people I know are always gracious, if I need an extra hand to carry something. If there’s somewhere I want to go, but can’t get there on my own, my friends and family do everything they can to help. Recently, on our annual trip to Cabo, I was even able to go deep-sea fishing for the first time, because my friends did the research and booked a charter that could accommodate me. I might have barfed in a bucket, but I went!


Maybe these things would still happen, if I were able-bodied, but I’ll never know. I do know that most people are good, even if we misjudge them.


The guy at the gym had a hairstyle that I equate with young guys who hoard equipment and pose in the mirror and take selfies between sets. Plus, he was sipping from an energy drink, and he had the audacity to start using an unoccupied piece of equipment that I was quietly planning to use in a few minutes. I think you get the point. I was being overly and unfairly harsh in my assessment of someone I had never met, and God wanted to point out my mistake.


I didn’t think that I was overt in my frustration with the situation, so imagine my surprise when he followed me out to the parking lot. There, he politely introduced himself, and asked me if I was Christian. Not wanting to be randomly evangelized, I was gracious, yet cautious in my response. He continued by saying that God told him that he needed to talk to me. Then, he read a Bible verse about God’s healing power, and he asked if he could say a prayer for me.


He explained that he truly believed that God could heal me. Ashamedly, as he was saying this, I wanted to say that God and a whole bunch of doctors have tried for decades to no avail to heal me, but I let him continue. Finally, he gently grabbed my arm and said a prayer, before excusing himself and returning to the gym.


I believe that God sends people into our lives with the messages we need to hear. The message I received that day was twofold: 1. I need to be less judgmental, and 2. Always take the time to spread kindness. My new gym friend didn’t need to expose himself to possible ridicule by putting himself in an awkward situation with a stranger, but he did, and it changed the trajectory of my week.


Look for an opportunity to spread kindness today. You don’t have to approach a stranger with a prayer. Something as simple and painless as a smile and few kind words can brighten someone’s day. Even if you don’t get the response you expect, you’ll benefit from the effort.

It's Been Years

By Mitch Arnold • July 27, 2025
When I was a kid growing up in Loup City, I went to Ord at least once per month to visit my grandparents and other relatives, and it wasn’t a trip that I was always eager to make. It wasn’t that I disliked seeing my relatives, but there were other things that I would have rather been doing. I sure couldn’t imagine making that trip on my own volition, but that’s exactly what I did a couple of Saturdays ago. My grandfather has been gone for more than 40 years now, and grandmother, more than 20. I can still remember them vividly, as well as their house and the heaping bowls of fudge and caramel covered ice cream I enjoyed in their kitchen as I listened to Grandpa tell stories between drags on his unfiltered Pall Mall cigarettes. Though I resisted those trips as a kid, if given the chance now, I would love to make one more visit, but time has moved on, and all I have are the memories. I’m a grandpa myself now, and that has given me a new perspective on the fleeting moments that we enjoy with loved ones. Years pass quickly these days, and with each new calendar we pin to the wall, we lose touch with people and places from our past. New people and places come into our lives, and we push aside the past to make room for them. While some of that is necessary and a part of life, I think that it’s also important to stay in touch with our roots. “How long has it been since you’ve seen your uncles?” my wife asked as we began the three-hour trip from Omaha to Ord. “It’s been years,” I replied. We don’t have the family reunions like we used to, and because travel becomes difficult or impossible for older people, we don’t have the opportunities we once had to cross paths with them. If we’re going to see the people and places from our past, we have to make an effort to do so. That’s what I was doing on that Saturday morning. My hometown of Loup City is only a 30-minute drive from Ord and just slightly off the route between Omaha and Ord, so I also took the opportunity to tour the town I hadn’t seen in more than a year. I drove the sleepy streets I once roamed on my bike. I went past the church I attended through childhood, as well as the home I grew up in and the home where my maternal grandparents lived. I stopped at my grandfather's grave and symbolically shared a beer with him. After lunch at the marina at the lake just outside of town, where I spent many summer afternoons boating with my family, I headed to Ord, driving past my aunt and uncle’s farm that I hadn’t seen in more than a decade. The Ord visit with my uncles was brief, but more rewarding than I had imagined. The laughter, smiles and stories were so familiar that it was hard to believe that it had been years since we had seen each other. I even bumped into three cousins that I hadn’t seen in years. As we headed back to Omaha, I thought about those childhood visits that I once resisted and began to appreciate why my parents insisted that we make them. Time is fleeting and waits for no one, but we can’t get so caught up in the present that we forget the past and the people and places that helped shape us into the people we are. If you have been thinking about the people and places from your past, take that as a sign that you need to visit them. Don’t just wait for the next opportunity, make that opportunity happen. You will be glad that you did.

Surviving a Collision with a Garbage Truck

By Mitch Arnold • June 29, 2025
I got hit by a garbage truck the other day, but was able to recover quickly, because it wasn’t the first time it happened, and it won’t be the last. It’s an unfortunate reality that everyone will occasionally run into a garbage truck through no fault of their own. (see ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck” below) One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, ‘Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!’ This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck.’ He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it! Sometimes they’ll dump it on you. Don’t take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don’t take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. The garbage truck in my latest collision was a prospect who I had never talked to, before picking up the phone and calling him about a position I was helping a client fill. Within seconds of introducing myself, his aggressive tone began to dominate. He demanded that I tell him who my client was and how much they were going to pay. I assured him that I would answer those questions once we determined that his background was a good fit and that he was interested in learning more. Finally, I offered to arrange a call at his convenience, when we could discuss the opportunity further. We never got to that point. After sending him some information on the opportunity, he repeated his earlier demands, this time through text messaging. In our exchange, I was able to determine that his background wasn’t a fit, so I thanked him for his time and asked if he could confidentially refer anyone. He responded by calling me a “god-awful recruiter.” I know that I’m a pretty good recruiter, and was fairly certain that he was a miserable person (garbage truck), but I held off on sharing those opinions with him. Instead, I just backed away, recalling “The Law of the Garbage Truck.” I wasn’t going to spend any more mental energy on him than I already had, and I surely wasn’t going to dump his garbage on someone else. Furthermore, I knew that my faith in humanity would soon be restored when I visited the gym over the lunch hour for my daily workout. Knowing that there are already too many garbage trucks wandering around out there, I try to be just the opposite, and the gym gives me a place to put that effort into practice. Because I appreciate friendly, positive people, I try to be one myself. I attempt to learn the names of the people I routinely see, like the front desk people, custodian and regular members, and I try to make connections with those who are receptive. And, I try to do that all with a smile, regardless of how I feel, even if I’m still stinging from a garbage truck collision. Per usual, the gym atmosphere didn’t disappoint. I exchanged pleasantries with people who expect me to be there at the same time almost every day, and enjoyed conversations that completely erased the garbage truck from my memory. Getting older has taught me that kindness pays dividends, and that even when it can’t save you from garbage truck collisions, it can certainly make them easier to recover from. Take the time to create a refuge of kindness that you can rely on when something like a garbage truck threatens to ruin your day. It’s worth the effort.