If you’ve ever read the Tennessee Williams play “A Streetcar Named Desire”, you remember the famous line spoken by Blanche Dubois as she was being lead away.  In a total state of delirium, she told the men leading her away, “I have always relied upon the kindness of strangers.”  This past weekend, while participating in a Civil War reenactment, I spent some time thinking about relying upon the kindness of strangers.

Many times since first getting into the hobby of Civil War Reenacting, I have had experiences that were very similar to those encountered by the real Civil War soldiers 150 years ago.  It is the experience of having a kind stranger offer some food or some other comfort.  This happens often at reenactments, especially at times during which the typical spectator might not be around to see such an act.

This past weekend, there was a lady with some kids, and they all were bringing around boxes of bright red delicious apples.  They were indeed delicious, and came at a perfect time, as I had not wanted to eat lunch before the battle, but was in need of some bit of food to drive away the hunger.

In the past, ladies have brought pies into camp to offer to the soldiers.  Sometimes an entire loaf of bread is offered to the camp, or a jar of preserves or jelly is provided.  Even in this time of modern conveniences, when I have a stocked cooler in my tent under the cover of a blanket, such acts of kindness and sustenance, especially when it is homegrown or homemade, warm my heart as I appreciate this person or these people taking the time and effort to come offer us something for our stomachs.

Likewise, there are times when, just like in the days of old, an individual or group of people will stop by each camp and ask if we would like to hear a song.  This too has happened many times over the last 14 years, but an occurrence that sticks out in my mind is when we were in Houston, Missouri.  After the first day of fighting, we were all resting in our camps when three children, the oldest only about 14, stopped and asked if we would like to hear a song.  One boy sat on a chair and played the dulcimer, one boy played fiddle, and the girl, who was the oldest, sang songs to us with an angelic voice that betrayed her years. And while it’s true that if I had wanted to listen to music I could have gone into my tent and listened to the iPod on my phone, there was something special, something very honest and giving, in these three children appearing in our camp and giving of themselves for our enjoyment.  Who needs the convenience of modern music playing in earbuds when you can sit around the fire and listen to someone sign songs to you right there!

Invariably, when such offers of singing take place, we all quietly take up a collection for the musicians, to thank them for their gift.  This too would have taken place in the real war, as such children may have been orphans, and this would have been their means of income.

To top it all off, at that same event, after the children had left, the adjacent regiment had a bagpipe player amongst them, and this gentlemen gave an impromptu bagpipe concert for about 30 minutes.  I believe the entire site grew still to listen.

Such musical contributions lighten the spirit and gladden the soul, and perhaps at times remind one of the songs his mother or grandmother used to sing, or simply make one forget he is far from home, if only for a few days.

I guess all this tends to say something about the human spirit, and the joys of giving, as well as the appreciation of receiving.  We reenactors may have stocked coolers in our tents, but a person offering an apple is an angel.  And we may have only driven 2 or 4 hours away from our homes, but someone coming by and singing to us lifts our spirit and makes home seem not quite so far away.

So I guess it begs the question, what can each of us do, what comfort can we provide, which even in the smallest way can make someone happy, can satiate a need, can lift their spirit?

That person may truly be relying upon the kindness of strangers…