Small acts of great kindness have great rewards. As some of you know, Sylvie was deeply upset and anxious earlier this week because all of her hats and many tote bags went missing.

There are so many choices I can make- getting angry, hating people who think differently, watching the hateful energy of hateful news, discouraged by the near collapse of our political values.

Selfishly, I chose to try to do good, that is I want to spend my time and much of my life. That was my moral choice, and the moral choice of so many others. Sylvie’s plight reaffirmed that choice for me, as the Mansion does almost every day.

Sylvie doesn’t know when or where or how these precious things vanished. I’m used to things vanishing around Sylvie, she must have lost about 1,000 stamps.

Hats are an essential element of her identity and her tote bags were full of the religious reading and research and letters that occupy her time. She is a tireless workers and a devout Jehovah’s Witness.

Saturday, she is expected to attend a religious assembly and she was desperate to have hats and tote bags for her books and papers. I’ve never seen her so anguished and frightened.

She pleaded with me to help her get some hats and tote bags before Saturday. Talk about small acts of great kindness. Talk about trust. I was  humbled that she came to me with this trouble and trusted me to help her.

She told me in the strongest terms that she had to have the tote bags before Saturday, and I could see was despairing of that happening. I’m a whiz at this by now, I know how to get things quickly.

Sylvie and I are close. We connect with one another on a level I don’t quite grasp, but I have great affection for her spirit and directness and independence.

I never question her decisions or her motives or her needs. Sylvie is one of the most honest people I know, and the most devout. She lives her values and beliefs. If she asks me for something I will move heaven and earth to go it for her.

She has never taken advantage of our friendship.

Last week, she came to me with the news that her church said meditation was not the right path for her, and so she withdrew from my class. “I have a question for you, Jon,” she asked, looking at me in the eyes. “Will you still love me if I withdraw from the class?”

I took her hand and looked her in the eye as well. Of course not, Sylvie, I would be an awful human being to punish you for that.” She looked relieved. “Oh, good,” she said.

Tuesday, I got moving, and with Maria’s help, got her five hats. Today, six tote bags I ordered online arrived around lunch time – I’m not a huge fan of corporations, but Amazon has been very helpful to me in this work, especially when timing matters.

I got over to the Mansion and Sylvie was sitting in the activities room, she looked a bit lost, she is almost always out in the hallways or sitting in the dining room going over her books and pamphlets. I showed her the tote bags and I saw the look of great  relief and joy on her face.

It was the greatest feeling in the world to see that.

Somehow, the hats and the tote bags ground her, give focus and structure to her day, give her work and purpose. She was so upset to find them gone.

“Thank you, Jon,” she said perhaps a dozen times today. She folded her bags, got up and rushed them to her room. “Thank you so much, Jon.”

When I left the Mansion, she was sitting in her room, book sand papers and pens out reading and marking pages, one of the tote bags was already stuffed with notes.

This is a choice, this idea of doing good. I know I am no saint, I know I do it for me as much or more than anyone. Feeling good has become something of an addiction for me, the first one I don’t want to find a cure for.

I know some of you are sending more bags, which she will appreciated. But I think we have enough by now. Your support makes my work possible.

If you wish to contribute,  you can do so via Paypal, [email protected] or by check, Jon Katz, The Mansion, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.