“…that best portion of a good man’s life,

His little, nameless, unremembered, acts

Of kindness and of love.” – William Wordsworth

As I walked to my listening spot on the opening day of turkey season, I came upon a turtle making its way across the road from one side of the beaver pond to the other.

Since I was a boy, I’ve always had a special place in my heart for turtles. I paused to take a picture of my hard-shelled friend before we each continued our journey and I thought nothing else about the turtle, until this past weekend.

My company had given us Friday afternoon off to decompress from the second week of working from home and I planned to take full advantage of the break by getting outside.

As I mentioned last week, a silver lining that has come from the current COVID-19 situation has been having my family together under one roof. With that said, the time spent inside under that roof has increased dramatically. The change has made me realize, even more, the importance of getting outside.

“Cabin fever” is a real phenomenon, however, the restlessness and irritability that it causes can be offset with something as simple as a walk around your neighborhood or a hike through the woods, both of which allow you to practice social distancing.

So, what does this have to do with a turtle?

Well, turtles remind me of a small act of kindness that took place in my life that has had lasting impact. They remind me of the importance of what Wordsworth called “…little, nameless, unremembered, acts of kindness and of love.” Turtles were also my introduction to the political process. Please, allow me to explain.

In the early ‘80s, I made my entry into politics as a campaign worker for Mr. Holder Grubbs. One day, he came into Ellistown Grocery, a cultural center of my youth, to ask the owners and patrons for their votes in his bid for justice court judge in Union County.

I knew Mr. Holder from church and when I saw him giving campaign cards to the customers inside the store, I asked how I could help. I was floored when he told me that if I helped he would bring me a turtle.

He had no idea the fire that would stoke inside the heart of a critter-obsessed boy! I took a handful of those green cards, climbed on my little orange banana seat bicycle, and hit the campaign trail. However, truth be known, my allegiance was neither Democrat nor Republican, it was amphibian!

I canvased the little hamlet of Ellistown. None were safe from the reach of the political machine Mr. Holder had created. In that day alone, I called on both my grandmothers, my babysitter, and every house on the little dirt road that led home.

Word soon got back to Mr. Holder what a stellar job his new campaign director was doing and that Sunday after church he followed through on his promise, handing me a box containing the most beautiful turtle my young eyes had ever beheld. To this day, when I see a turtle I think of Mr. Holder and his kindness.

Friday, while I was spending my afternoon outside mowing the yard at the farm, I noticed a car had stopped on the road. As I made my rounds on the mower, I watched as several cars drove past a young man standing beside the car on his phone. I was in a quandary of what to do? Do I offer to help? Do I practice “social distancing?”

Thinking about how I had been in his shoes before, I headed down the driveway and, as I turned off the mower, I could hear a baby crying from inside the car. “Sir, could you help me?” he asked with a worried look on his face, adding “my car just died.”

As I watched him drive away after we jump-started his car, I thought about the turtle and Mr. Holder. It’s funny how our minds link experiences together. I don’t share this with you to get a pat on the back, rather, I share it as a reminder that one small act of kindness can have lifelong impact.

Take time this week to get outside and get some fresh air. When you’re out there, remember to be kind to others and look for ways to help your neighbor in these crazy times. Keep an eye out for turtles during your time alfresco and, until next time, I look forward to seeing you out there in our great outdoors.

Email Outdoors columnist Brad Dye at braddye@comcast.net.