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.

Attitude Makes All of the Difference

By Mitch Arnold • March 15, 2026
About six months ago, I received a letter from a clinic telling me that my five years were up, and it was time for me to call to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. Because that procedure and the preparation for it are awfully unpleasant, I didn’t respond to the letter until last week. If you’ve ever experienced a colonoscopy, perhaps you can forgive my procrastination. After five minutes on hold, I was ready to give up on the call, maybe take it as a sign to buy more time, but Lynda sat near me, looking at me with eyes that said further procrastination would be most unwelcome. At last, a very pleasant voice greeted me on the other end of the line. I joked with her that she was WAY more enthusiastic about the call than I was. She laughed and assured me that she understood my hesitation, but that she was going to make it as easy as possible. Her job was to field reluctant calls from unenthusiastic patients, and then to ask them questions about their bowel movements. For veterans of the procedure like me, she breezed over the details of the preparation that consists of clearing your system with a barrage of intestinal stimulants, and then ended the call with reassurance that it won’t be that bad, and that having the procedure is the responsible thing to do. When I hung up the phone, I thought about how the appointment maker’s attitude made the experience better for both of us. Had she matched my level of enthusiasm and negativity, we probably still would have accomplished the required task, but we would have done so in a way that didn’t reflect our humanity. Then, I thought about how that call was a reminder of how warmth and empathy bring peace to those lucky enough to be around them. The receptionist’s job was to have conversations with people who didn’t want to talk to her and to ask them awkward questions about something as off-putting as their digestive tendencies. That’s certainly a lot to overcome, but she did it like a professional. By the time I hung up the phone, I could feel stress and tension leaving my body. We have many opportunities to do the same thing – not to ask people uncomfortable questions about bodily functions, but to lighten our tone and use empathy to make others more comfortable and bring peace to the world around us. When we encounter people obviously having a rough day, we should be sensitive to their fragility and treat them as we would want to be treated. Even when the bad day isn’t obvious, a little extra warmth and empathy is worth the effort and usually improves our days too. I know this, because I’m often blessed to be on the receiving end of these transactions. Because of my obvious disability, most people soften when meeting me. Even those who I see frequently, like people at the gym, go out of their way to be kind and helpful to me. Of course, I reciprocate, and after a while, it’s just the way that we interact with each other.  That’s a good way to live, and the colonoscopy scheduler reminded me of that. Though I had never met her, I could tell that she cared enough about me as a patient to extend the extra effort of humanity. Think about a world where we all do that every time we interact with each other.

People Think We Shouldn’t Be Friends

By Mitch Arnold • February 15, 2026
Most of my closest friendships go back decades, and they are with people who are a lot like me. Because we grew up in similar environments and share similar backgrounds, my friends and I also share fairly consistent perspectives on the world and current issues. If we differ, it’s usually only slightly. Vernon was a notable exception. Vernon came from a much different background than I, and that made his perspective unique and valuable to me. Despite our differences, we learned over the decades that we had more in common than we could have imagined. I met Vernon in the late 1990s, when I was working in public relations at a historically black university (HBCU), North Carolina A&T State University. He was 15 years older than me, and a consummate professional, not to mention, a snappy dresser. He was always in a suit, and took his work in research administration very seriously. Initially, he intimidated me and I amused him. Not many people on campus looked like me. Fewer came from a background like mine. As a white guy who grew up in the rural Midwest and whose previous job was teaching at a Catholic school in Nebraska, I was very much a minority. Additionally, I was a Republican, and there weren’t many of those around either. I thought of Vernon during the noise surrounding this year’s Super Bowl halftime show. If we still worked down the hallway from each other, one of us surely would have stopped by the other’s office to share perspectives and try to make sense of the controversy. That conversation would have ended, like they all did, with some good-natured humor and a laugh. Decades have passed since Vernon and I worked together. In that time, I moved back to Nebraska and Vernon eventually retired. Still, we kept in touch with phone calls at least once per year. “It’s your white Republican friend from Nebraska” is how those calls usually started. He would follow by asking me again where Nebraska is, and what I thought of the current political landscape. Though clearly incongruent politically, never did we argue or take up sides against each offer. Mostly what we learned from each other is that we weren’t all that different and that often what we assumed wasn’t always the case. Vernon was very much a capitalist and more socially conservative than most Republicans, including me. Jokingly, I once accused him of being a Republican, because a lot of what he said didn’t fit my narrative of a Democrat. Likewise, he was surprised when I told him that I wasn’t a fervent supporter of President Trump. “You’re a unique man,” he said. I told him that I really wasn’t. Like most people on both sides, I valued many of the things he did, like strong family values and a strong economy. We just differed on the role that government should play on those issues. In one particularly poignant exchange, Vernon said, “People would look at us and think that we shouldn’t be friends.” Initially, his comment made me sad; however, I stepped back and thought about it further. In a world that seems intent on separating and categorizing people, it’s important that we remain friends and prioritize our similarities over our differences. I would have enjoyed a conversation with Vernon about the Super Bowl Halftime Show controversy, and imagine that he would have told me that he didn’t watch either show, but I didn’t get that opportunity. Vernon passed away in his sleep last spring. Even though he’s gone, his voice will never leave me. When I see efforts to divide our great nation into sides, I’ll always think of Vernon and strive to have friendships like the one I had with him, even when people think that we shouldn’t be friends.