This is the first story in The Little Book of Kindness — a series of small reflections on everyday acts that quietly change us.
I was fifteen when I first learned what kindness could look like.
It was 1973, in Narrogin, just after the funeral of my grandmother Ellen — known to everyone as Nell. The house was full — voices, cups of tea, people trying to be helpful — but grief has a way of making noise feel distant. At some point, I slipped away from the farmhouse and wandered out into the bush.
The Wheatbelt has always felt like it lived in my bones. Red dirt. Open skies. And paper daisies — growing where they always do, quietly, without fuss. They weren’t rare or precious. They didn’t demand attention. They simply grew.
I sat among them, pulling at their stems without thinking, not quite sure what I was feeling, only that it was too big to name.
A nearby farmer — a neighbour I recognised but barely knew — noticed me there. He stopped what he was doing and walked over, holding a single daisy in his hand. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t try to explain anything away.
He just said,
“This flower is small, but it’s strong. It keeps growing no matter how harsh the seasons. Be like the daisy — gentle, but resilient.”
That was all.
It didn’t change what had happened. It didn’t take away the loss. But it shifted something. It reminded me that even in hard seasons, kindness can still grow — quietly, persistently, without needing applause.
That moment stayed with me.
Over time, the daisy became a symbol — not of grand gestures, but of everyday kindness. A handful picked to comfort a friend. A single stem to cheer a child. A small cluster placed where words feel inadequate.
Kindness, I learned, doesn’t have to be loud or elaborate. Often, it’s simple. Human. Offered without expectation.
Like daisies in the Wheatbelt — it grows where it’s needed most.
— From the Author
. . .
Looking back, I see now that kindness doesn’t arrive in answers. It arrives as presence. As noticing. As someone choosing to meet another human where they are.
Where has kindness shown up quietly in your life — when you needed it most?
. . .
This is Part One of a ten-part series from The Little Book of Kindness.