Penny plates amaze me. I’m talking about those receptacles we find at every store, cafe, gas station, and post office out here in the country. People routinely drop in spare change to help their fellow man. Then, at the gas station, if you miscalculate the final squeeze (and who doesn’t?) and end up pumping $20.01, you can grab a penny from the communal plate instead of breaking a five to make the change.

We take those plates for granted, but it is pretty amazing when you think about it. I mean, we could each hold onto our own change so we had a penny when we need one. Instead, we give it away, totally trusting that the next guy will do the same thing for us.

And, while we are talking about the kindness of strangers, what about blood drives? I’m not talking about the clinics that actually buy your blood. I’m talking about neighborhood gatherings where people walk in, lie down, and pour out the essence of their lives by the quart. For strangers. No cost. Seriously, have you thought about how ludicrous that would sound if you didn’t know it exists?

We recently spent eight days in a big-city hospital facing scary, painful, life-threatening issues with our daughter. And, I continually encountered the kindness of strangers. Like the desk clerk who allowed me to cancel a previously arranged hotel reservation and then promised to pray for our daughter.

We found those people everywhere. They are the same folks who drop pennies in the gas station plate and extend their arms to give blood. I’ve been pondering what makes us behave this way. Why are we humans so willing to extend kindness to strangers?

I’m sure I don’t have it figured out. And, if I ponder long enough, I’ll remember how rotten we can all be. But, this week I’m thinking that maybe our nonchalant dropping of pennies and blood and promises of prayer has something to do with our desire to be good — to be Godly. Maybe we are all trying in a small way to make up for that one guy, long ago, who said, “There is no room in this Inn!”