Tragedies, hardships and terrible struggles happen in life but the worst of them seem to happen to other people, or so it seems. When they happen to us, because unfortunately that's the law of averages, they can leave us reeling with no end to our grief in sight.

Time and time again, throughout history, individuals and their communities have demonstrated that the worst situations tend to bring out the very best in people. In so many moments of darkness and desperation, we also hear of many moments of light and joy; gestures of extreme kindness and compassion and connections made that allow people to show who they are and what really matters to them.

I often think back to those terrible days in July 2016 that followed the death of our beloved daughter Natasha, died from anaphylaxis to sesame whilst on a BA plane. She was 15 years old, going on a short holiday to Nice with her father and best friend Bethany. A week later, she was in a coffin in the hold of a BA plane being flown back home.

In the early evening of that terrible day, I was desperately waiting to board a plane to Nice, to be with my daughter, to hold her hand and to pull her through with the sheer strength of my love. Nadim, Natasha’s father phoned me as I sat in the gate of the airport and told me to say my final goodbye to her, because in minutes, her heart would stop forever. I did as I was told and collapsed.

The kindness of others

My plane was delayed by 6 hours and I arrived in Nice at 2.30am the next morning. Natasha’s body had already been taken from the hospital to Nice’s city mortuary and I would have to wait until it opened before I would be able to go and see her. As soon as we could, Nadim and I tried to find a taxi to take us to the mortuary which is located in the hills above Nice.

We phoned taxi companies, no answer came so we went out into the street, but none could be found. We asked a lady passing by, where we could find a taxi to the mortuary. I will never forget the shock on her face as we explained why we wanted to go there. She told us that it was impossible to hire a taxi that day because it was a national day of mourning throughout France, due to the terrorist attack earlier that week when a truck had run over and killed nearly a hundred people on the Promenade des Anglais.

She explained that there were no trains or buses that went to the mortuary and that the only way to get there was by car. She then did an extraordinary thing. She put her hand into her handbag and drew out her car keys. She took my husband’s hand and pressed the keys into them telling him to take them and for us to use her car for as long and for as many days as we needed it. Because of this act of kindness, we were able to visit Natasha at the mortuary every day until we were able to bring her home a week later.

During that week in Nice, I remember how we waded through a swamp of French bureaucracy and red tape as we tried to arrange to have Natasha flown back to the UK. Intermingled with our profound shock and grief, I also remember other incredible acts of kindness to us, from total strangers, uninvited and yet there they were, soothing balms to our visceral pain.

Grief stricken, we walked in a daze in the streets outside our apartment. I remember the heat of the sun making me feel nauseas, so we took cover in Nice’s old cathedral where we quietly sat in the back pew. The last thing we wanted was to draw any attention to ourselves, so we were surprised when the priest walked over to us. He had noticed how sad we looked and came over to ask if he could help us in any way. When he heard what had happened, he asked if we would allow him to mention Natasha in his next service which was about to start. My French is quite basic, so I only understood small bits and pieces of the service, but I remember hearing him say Natasha’s name as I sat weeping quietly. When the service was finished and as people began to leave their seats, a crowd of people began to gather around us. One by one, complete strangers began hugging us, tight, tears springing from their eyes, talking to us with choked voices. I had no idea what most of them were saying but their kindness and compassion was tangible. We left the cathedral in tears but comforted by people we didn’t know, comforted when we least expected it.

During that week, good friends on holiday nearby, asked to come and see us for one evening when they heard of Natasha’s death. Their daughter Sophia was one of Natasha’s best friends and she was in despair. That afternoon, as we had tried to eat a sandwich in a small local restaurant, the couple who ran it asked us if they could help us in any way as they had seen our swollen eyes from crying and felt our obvious grief. We told them and then upon hearing that the family of one of Natasha’s closest friends was visiting us that evening, they insisted on opening their restaurant doors for us and our friends only; no other dinner guests because they wanted us to have a ‘safe’ place where we would be able to talk and cry without embarrassment. That evening they cooked and served dinner just for us. Another act of unexpected kindness had come our way.

Many of you will have heard or read in the newspapers that on the BA plane flying back from Nice, with Natasha’s body in a coffin below us in the hold, Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York who was a passenger on the same flight and sitting behind us, seeing how grief stricken we were, reached out across the seats and asked if she could be of any help. We talked, she asked so many questions about Natasha, who she was, what was she like, what did she enjoy and somehow that most terrible of journeys, passed by as we recounted stories to her of our lovely daughter. And as we talked, on that terrible flight back home, Natasha was alive and smiling in our minds and for that we will always be grateful. Sarah removed a bracelet from her wrist and attached it to mine; “Wear this bracelet and it will give you my strength”. I have never taken it off.

Coronavirus has opened the world’s eyes to others suffering and we have all been reminded that being kind is an intrinsic part of being human. It is the social glue that connects us, it is an act of love that we all need to survive. It comes our way when we least expect it and it is a very welcome friend. I wanted to share how some of our own experiences of acts of kindness have followed us in our very worst moments. “No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted” – Aesop

Kindness Shows Its Face When You Least Expect It To

The kindness of others