Yesterday, on a rare day of shopping into town, I was touched by several acts of kindness by complete strangers.
The first occurred as we entered a slightly crowded bus. As I negotiated with Anne’s help my three-wheeled walker onto the bus. It is always a moment of anxiety for both of us to be seated before the bus moves off and almost immediately turns a nearby sharp corner.
A woman with bags and a suitcase saw us coming. She instantly struggled out of the nearest seat reserved for the elderly and disabled, moving with difficulty further into the bus. I thanked her for her kindness. Noting another specially allocated seat was occupied by another unencumbered young woman who avoided eye contact.(Charitably, I thought she might have a hidden disability.)
On leaving the bus, we thanked the driver for curtsying the bus down almost onto the pavement. Avoiding a leap of faith to negotiate what I call the Cumberland gap. Most but not all drivers do it automatically.
Entering a remodelled store, we could not find the lift. In days gone by, that was no problem. We would have wandered about looking at items of interest till we found it. Now, age and disability dictate otherwise; planning is required to complete our essential shopping list with the least amount of perambulation. A young man noticed us and went out of his way to point us in the right direction at the back of the store. I gave him a wobbly card and a quick chat as a thank you.
Walking to the next large store, I suddenly ran out of steam and needed to sit down. It happens from time to time. It is soon cured by a sit-down for about ten minutes, then I am off again. We looked around the by-now crowded bank holiday street.
Nothing came into view, then I remembered a little further on an Italian restaurant on a corner with red tables arranged outside, roped off. I asked Anne, “Do you think they are open, and would they serve us coffee?”
We made our way there. I thankfully sat down, while Anne went to enquire. On her return, she reported, “Yes, they would be pleased to do so, though they were not quite ready to open yet.”
A lovely, smiling young waitress soon appeared with two coffees and a jug of water and glasses. Thanking her and exchanging informative chatter. She said she was studying graphic design. I gave her a Wobbly card.
As I recovered, we sat quietly watching the hustle and bustle of street activity, a hobby of both of us. The manager came to greet us. Anne had conversed with him when enquiring about a coffee. She asked where he was from and shared her love and experience of Italy.
Thanking him for opening for us. He said, “Any time, madam, you can sit here when you need to. This is your stop. We will always serve you, and if you come a little later, you can try our excellent pizza.”
“Do you do gluten-free pizza?”
“Yes, we do.” I clapped my hands in delight, “what a treat that would be.”
Anne then said, “I think you could put up a sign, “recharge your batteries here, like the electric cars do.”
Laughing we, thanked him for his kindness, and gave him a Wobbly card. Fully restored, we recommenced our shopping.
Once again, we stepped into a revamped large store, filling with customers. Nothing was as I remembered. I had items to return from another store, and others sorely needed purchasing.
The exchanges were easy as they were on the ground floor, and a shop assistant saw us searching and came to assist us. She helped us through the whole experience and escorted us to one of the elusive lifts. I gave her a Wobbly card. She smiled, saying her daughter was writing a book and she was doing the illustrations. We were delighted to hear it. Thanking her, we were whisked away to the next floor.
The last items I required were also difficult to find. Several people kindly tried to help.
Anne approached another assistant, as we surveyed the daunting racks and racks of bras of many sizes. Plus the inevitable, “Oh gosh, what size am I now? It is some time since I bought a new bra.”
She cheerfully searched high and low till two were found, in the estimated size. She was thanked and accepted a Wobbly card, and said she would certainly look it up.
Enough was enough; time to return home. We slowly made our way to our bus stop. Due to the bank holiday, road works, and traffic accidents, the bus timetable was unhelpful.
I asked a lady sitting beside me, “Have you seen a 465 arrive yet?”
“Yes, I think it went already.” We went on to have a moan about the buses. My heart sank, and Anne came up with a solution, “Why don’t we take a 281 bus to Surbiton, then a taxi home?”
“Anne, that is a brilliant idea. The 281 stops here as I viewed the gathering queue.”
A lovely tall gentleman smiled at us, saying, “Come on ladies, you have earned your years in queues. Come in front of me.” Once on board, we exchanged some local knowledge as we passed a huge public building which was being converted into flats. I gave him a Wobbly card in thanks for his kindness.”
Another couple joined our conversation and expanded all our knowledge regarding the flats. Thanking them for an interesting ride, a Wobbly card was given.
At the taxi rank two taxis waited. One was taken and moved off. The next moved to the top of the rank just as Anne was about to put her hand on the handle. Extending our tired approach by a few more yards.
Once on board, we sank thankfully back, to exchange news with our driver all the way home. Where the last thank you, payment, and Wobbly card were exchanged.
©️2026 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
