I arrived at the platform at Roma Termini with seconds to spare before the train pulled out. As I rushed to the door there was a fella there trying to haul his heavy suitcases into the carriage. I did what anyone would have done: grabbed the remaining cases and bundled him the luggage, and myself through the door just as they slid shut.
He came and sat with me, thanking me for my help and then worrying away at his phone trying to make a call to Assisi. I lent him mine. From that point on he proclaimed me his miracle guardian angel, which seemed a bit of a magnanimous reward for such a small favour. We fell into conversation for the rest of the trip.
Francesco was fascinating. He was an Australian and Italian dual citizen who'd spent years teaching among the aboriginal peoples near Alice Springs. Over that time he'd be given a number of works of traditional aboriginal art which had acquired significant financial value, into the millions. But when he heard that the people who'd given him the art were engaged in a project to restore their culture heritage and build a gallery / museum, he offered the whole lot back without charge. "One of the old fellas came to take a look," he told me. "I think they thought I had a few small pictures. There were nearly thirty of them, some of them more than six feet tall. You should have seen the look on his face!"
Francesco now has an apartment in Assisi and had just flown back in from Adelaide - 24 hours of travel across seven or eight time zones. He was exhausted. I helped him off the train at Assisi and we were met outside by the lovely Andreas, who'd come to pick him up and save him a bus trip, even though he didn't know Francesco at all - just a friend of a friend. From that point on, we were both miraculous angels.
I totally understand Francesco's gratitude. From Andreas and my point of view, what we did was really nothing at all. To Francesco, tired and struggling to hold everything together, it meant the world. That, I guess, is the nature of kindness.
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