KINDEST THING I EVER DID "Make sure it is Mr Palm's, that is the bigger one" my sister yelled from the kitchen. I walked out of the house in a huff, a money note in my hand and bitterness in my soul. Of all the days, I was sent on a ridiculous errand on my birthday while everyone else lay inside indolent. I held back a few tears as I recalled my obsessive attitude to my family members' birthdays. The secret planning I did a month before their birthdays, waking up at 6 o'clock to sing the birthday song, saving my lunch money to buy gifts and pretending not to notice their staid reaction to my efforts all seemed foolish and naive.The halfhearted smiles and thank yous were just facile victories. As I walked to the shop, I tripped on a stone and the flip-flops I was wearing came undone. I stared at the offending footwear in disbelief. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did the impossible and got worse. I broke down in tears and prayed no one would see me. I was known by everyone who knew me to very lachrymose. I did not want to be teased again. I mentally counted the wrongs exacted on me by the world. First, it took ages before anyone remembered my birthday so I was sung my birthday song by 10am. Second, everyone paid even less attention to me today than other days and being the fifth child of seven I did not entertain much attention to begin with. Thirdly, I was sent to buy salt no one needed whilst my non celebrant younger brothers did nothing. Why couldn't they have been sent to buy salt?. Salt!Of all things. I stood at the pedestrian side of the road. Cars zoomed past me but I was cavalier towards them. I was more worried a classmate might see me and carry the rumor that quiet little Ifunanya cries on roads. Lastly, my slippers spoilt on the way to buy that cursed salt. I heard a grunt behind me and sighed heavily. Here comes someone to make a comment on the emotional girl on the road. I wiped my wet cheeks hastily and turned to face the stranger. It was a little girl carrying a big bag of trash. Every now and then she would drop the bag and stop. It was too heavy for her, I reasoned. I quietly cleared my throat, prayed that mucus was not dripping from my nose and asked her if I could help. "Is it heavy?" I asked. She looked at me shiftily. She was raised not to talk to strangers. I smiled in spite of myself. I was raised that way too. "Let me help you" I said cheerily. I picked up my pair of flip-flops and took the bag from her. "Thank you" she said hesitantly. "Where are you going?" I asked. She pointed down a street. It was out of my way but I reckoned I could come back and still buy that salt. I walked silently with her to the dumpster. When we got there, I tossed into the dumpster and walked back with her. We reached a point where we needed to go in opposite directions to go home. I waved her goodbye, she waved back. I went to the shop and bought the salt. Then, I walked home practically bouncing on my bare feet. I felt healed. I did not do much for that girl but she helped me. The first hours of my birthday were not great but if it was not for her spindly arms the whole day would have been horrible. Thanks to her I felt peaceful. I was healed of my discontent and ingratitude. I had someone else to channel my attention to for a brief period. I have been to orphanages with my mother. We would buy things and give the children as presents. It was amazing and admirable work. I went home speaking sententiously of ways to help parents and children to avoid the fates I saw at the orphanages. This time, I went home free. I was not very happy. I did not perform a praiseworthy task but I was changed. Perhaps, charity can be like this. It does not need to spark much inspiration or enthusiasm. It could just be a simple task like tying our shoes. I will never win a Nobel prize for helping that girl. She might not remember me. After all, it was not like I gave her free education. Nevertheless, I will always remember what I did for her as the kindest thing I have ever done. It was taking a moment out of my life at a very low period for someone I might never recognise again. She gave me the best birthday present I have ever received. The gift of small easily forgotten charity.