It was an ordinary day at school, but something unusual was about to happen. Our regular teacher was absent, and in his place stood a relief teacher by the name of Mr Denis Doss.
He had never taught us before, and for most of us, a relief teacher was often seen as a temporary placeholder – a day where we could expect little more than filling time with worksheets or half-hearted lessons. But as soon as Mr Doss walked into our classroom, guitar slung over his shoulder, I could sense that this day was going to be different.
Instead of diving into the subject, we were supposed to learn, Mr Doss made an unexpected announcement: “Today, we won’t be following the regular curriculum. Instead, I’m going to teach you something else – a song.” With that, he walked over to the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk, and began writing the lyrics of a song across it. As 14-year-olds, we were intrigued, a bit confused, but certainly curious.
The lyrics read: “If you see your brother standing by the road, with a heavy load from the seeds he sowed / And if you see your sister falling by the way, just stop and say, you’re going the wrong way / You've got to try a little kindness...”
Mr Doss then took a chair, placed one foot on it, rested his guitar on his elevated knee, and began to play and sing Try A Little Kindness by Glen Campbell. His voice was warm, soothing, and filled with a sincerity that demanded attention. For a moment, the classroom, usually filled with the noise and chatter of adolescents, fell silent.
For an impressionable teen like me, the song was much more than just a tune. In that moment, it felt like Mr Doss was sharing a profound truth – a message about kindness – that resonated deeply within me. While narrow-minded people might not have seen the relevance of such a lesson in the context of school, Mr Doss had tapped into something far more meaningful. In a world where we were constantly told to strive for success, to compete, to excel in academics and sports, Mr Doss reminded us of the one thing that costs nothing but changes everything: Kindness.
He didn't just sing the song and leave it at that. Once the music ended, Mr Doss spoke to us about the importance of kindness, not just as an abstract idea, but as a way of life. He told us that kindness had the power to bridge gaps between people, to bring light into the darkest of places, and to create connections where there were none before. He said that it was easy to be kind in times of ease, but true kindness shines brightest when we show it to those who may not deserve it, when we offer it without expecting anything in return.
He reminded us that kindness is free, and everyone can play a part in making the world a better place just by being a little kinder to those around us. That lesson, taught in the most unconventional of settings – a school classroom – left a lasting impression on me. It wasn’t just the environment that made the lesson so impactful; it was the sincerity and passion with which Mr Doss delivered it. At 14, I didn’t fully understand the depth of the message, but as the years passed, I found myself reflecting on that day often.
One day, I heard news that Mr Doss had fallen ill and had been admitted to the hospital. Upon hearing this, I felt compelled to visit him and express my gratitude for the lasting impact he had on my life. Even though we had not been in touch for many years, I knew that I needed to tell him how much his impromptu lesson on kindness had meant to me.
When I arrived at the hospital, I was saddened to see that Mr Doss had aged and was visibly unwell. He didn’t recognise me at first – I had changed over the years, and with my beard and older appearance, I was no longer the boy he had once taught. Nevertheless, I introduced myself and shared the story of that day in the classroom. I told him about how his song and message had stuck with me all these years and how it had shaped the way I approached life, relationships, and even my own professional path.
As I recounted the memory, a smile crept across Mr Doss’s face. He couldn’t speak due to his illness, but I could tell that he remembered the moment, or at least understood the significance it had for me.
As I finished telling the story, a patient in the next bed who had overheard our conversation then chimed in: “You must have been a good teacher because this student, who now lives in Australia, took the trouble to visit you and show his appreciation for what you taught him.”
In that moment, I realised just how powerful a single act of kindness can be. Mr Doss’s simple decision to deviate from the planned curriculum and teach us about kindness through music had rippled through the years. What might have been just another day for some had become a cornerstone of my outlook on life. His lesson – that kindness is free and that we all have the power to offer it – had shaped me into the person I am today.
As I left the hospital, I carried with me not just the memory of Mr Doss, but the deeper understanding that we all can impact others in profound ways, often without even knowing it. Kindness, as Mr Doss so beautifully demonstrated, is a gift that keeps giving. And as I look back on that day in the classroom, I can only hope to pass on the same lesson to others, in the hope that they too will "try a little kindness" and make the world a gentler, more compassionate place.