'Good People' book tells stories of kindness and connection
Host Lisa Mullins speaks with Gabriel Reilich and Lucia Knell of the digital media company Upworthy. The pair are the co-authors of the new book “Good People: Stories from the Best of Humanity,” which presents anecdotes selected and amplified from Upworthy’s online community.
By Gabriel Reilich and Lucia Knell
The Front Porch
LYNNE C.
My grandmother’s front porch was too small for chairs—it was more of a stoop, really, providing just enough space for her to stand as she waved visitors inside. For as long as I can remember, every time we went to see her, she was already standing outside, a big smile on her face. As we exited the car, she would chirp, “Well, hi!” as though she’d waited all day for that very moment.
My grandma and I were kindred spirits; with her, I always felt understood. I could talk to her about anything, and she never tired of my questions. We baked, I played dress-up with her clothes and jewelry, and she taught me how to squeeze juice from the oranges growing outside.
She was a beautiful woman, and when she died, it felt like a light went out. I wasn’t sure what my life would look like without her in it. After her funeral service, I quietly confided in a friend of hers, Fred, that I was really dreading returning to her house. The thought of an empty porch without her there to greet me broke my heart. I didn’t want to face it.
Fred listened intently, angling his head toward me to ensure he caught every word. He wore big glasses that magnified his gentle, twinkly eyes. I knew him well from the work he’d done with my grandma over the years at their church; Fred was a prankster, someone with whom I’d shared many laughs. Talking to him for a few moments brought me a lot of comfort, his presence helping to quell the dread in my stomach.
After the interment, it was time to drive to my grandmother’s house and face reality without her. I cry every time at the memory: my growing sadness as we drove up the street, weighing so heavily on my heart, followed by the surprise of seeing the porch not empty, but occupied—by Fred.
He looked at me so tenderly as he opened his arms for a hug. “I didn’t want you to come home from the cemetery to an empty porch.”
I don’t have adequate words to describe the gift Fred gave me that day. True, my grandmother was no longer there to greet me. But everything she embodied—compassion, attunement, sensitivity— lived on through her friend, communicated in one simple gesture.
In that moment, I realized I didn’t fear the empty porch so much as an empty heart. Fred filled it that day with love. •
Excerpted from Upworthy’s ‘Good People’ by Gabriel Reilich and Lucia Knell, available now wherever books are sold.
This article was originally published on WBUR.org.
