What a Left-Turn Lane, a Kind Stranger, and My Children Taught Me About Human Connection
When I read the news right now, I worry that we are pulling away from one another at a time when we most need to be reaching across what divides us. I worry about how we care for our planet, protect natural resources, and take responsibility for the non-human animals who share our world and depend on us for safety and stewardship.
I find myself wondering how I, in my very small and overscheduled life, could possibly make a difference. I worry that we adults are saddling our children with burdens they should not have to carry and problems they should not be left to solve on their own.
Dear ones, if you also find yourself struggling with helplessness, grief, and frustration at how big today’s problems are and how small your hands are to hold or fix them, read on to learn about a small act of kindness that can make a big difference.
There is a busy intersection in central Austin where Loop 1 (or “Mopac”) crosses Lake Austin Boulevard. From about 2:00 until 6:30, it’s a mess and best avoided if you can. The left-turn lane onto Lake Austin can take multiple light cycles and many, many minutes. One block past the intersection, there’s a right turn that leads to two places: one of Austin’s most amazing high schools (go, Austin High Maroons!) and the entrance to one of the city’s busiest playing fields.
I sat in that left-turn lane at least once a week when my kids were playing kindergarten soccer and, years later, I still sit in it anytime I need to go downtown or head to my gym. During one of those kindergarten-soccer, left-lane waiting games, that’s when I met Eddie.
Eddie was taking one of his “walks” alongside the access road. I smiled at him and he stopped. I rolled down my window and offered him a bottle of water, which he accepted, and then he stayed to chat. We introduced ourselves, and he cheerfully greeted the boys, enlivened by the very excited kindergarten twins with their brightly colored soccer shoes who were en route to practice. He was delightful and asked us to roll down the windows and chat with him next time we were waiting for the light to turn.
When we turned left to head to soccer, Angel asked if next time we could bring him Gatorade instead of water. I said absolutely, and we started traveling with Gatorade in the front seat of the car from spring to fall.
A Decade of Conversations at a Stoplight
In the ten years since that first meeting, I’ve had hundreds of conversations with Eddie. We’ve talked about books, living in Austin, health care stuff, discrimination, and watching the city transition from a place that could be navigated in about 20 minutes to left-turn lanes that can take 30. I’ve watched Eddie struggle with the effects of mental illness, alcohol, and likely other substances. I’ve watched him have screaming matches with voices in his head. I’ve also watched him develop a romantic relationship with a woman, and I’ve watched them walk hand in hand as she set up her own spot at another corner. Each time I have smiled and felt grateful that they found their way to each other.
When I’ve passed that intersection a few times without seeing him, I’ve worried about him. When he’s returned, he’s shared stories of being hospitalized, incarcerated, or needing time to recover following a physical altercation. I’ve wished him well, and he’s always said goodbye with a big grin and, “See you later, Mama.”
Eddie has inspired me since that first meeting. I wanted to do more than give money or bottles of Gatorade to Eddie and to people who, like him, spend their time on street corners either by choice or necessity.
When One Relationship Becomes Community Action
At the time of our initial conversation (circa 2015), I was working in a downtown primary care clinic that served marginalized patients, many of whom lived on the streets, in shelters, and far below the poverty line. During one family medicine intern support group, we decided to start an annual service project for the holidays and landed on creating care bags for people without homes. I researched what items were most needed and most requested, and what items should not be included, such as alcohol-based hand sanitizer when paired with food items like granola or cereal bars. Our clinic social worker created a list of local resources for food, shelter, clothing, and other community services.
The first year, I purchased a basic list of items—socks, lotion, lip balm, and water—and together we made about twenty-four bags. Each of us took three bags and committed to giving them to someone in need, then returning to share our experiences with each other. The second year, we expanded to two classes of family medicine residents. We opened our standard list to include additional items of the residents’ choice, and the bags grew to include toothpaste, deodorant, food, toilet paper, and thermal blankets. By my final year at the job (2019), all three classes (24 residents) were making bags to deliver.
When the boys were in third grade, I floated the idea of doing this as a grade-wide service project, and parents and teachers got on board quickly.
I continued the project with the boys’ classmates and family medicine residents from 2015 through 2023. By my rough estimate, we made about 600 bags during that time. I also facilitated six debrief discussions with Angel and Giovanni and their classmates about why it matters to support our fellow human beings in a community-focused way and how volunteerism and giving to others expands our life perspectives and ability to be grateful for what we have.
I noticed my own behavior changing, too. When I ate out and had leftovers, I asked to have them boxed and gave them to someone on the street. When traveling, I asked servers if they had suggestions about where I might find someone who was hungry and could use a meal. Not once have I met a server who struggled to identify a place.
And it all started with that first encounter with Eddie and my beautiful son’s comment about maybe bringing him some Gatorade. Angel knew nothing about electrolytes and why sports drinks are given after a soccer game. He just knew that he liked it – and wanted to share it with Eddie.
Remembering Eddie
Last night, I was scrolling through email and clicked on a community message. The author shared that Eddie had died over the weekend. What surprised and moved me most were the comments. They were filled with gratitude and love for that beautiful man. One person described driving Eddie across town to a shelter when temperatures were predicted to drop below freezing and having a fascinating conversation. Another shared about their last conversation with him. Many wrote about how much they would miss him. Someone else shared that a memorial was planned for Saturday afternoon at Eddie’s corner.
I found myself wondering if he had any idea how many lives he touched while we were all just trying to make our way through that left-turn lane.
This morning, as we drove down the access road and passed Eddie’s corner, our hearts were heavy. His chair was filled with flowers instead of his waving, grinning body. Hours later, I still feel sad, and I suspect that for a long time, each time I pass that corner, a quiet pause will come as I remember him
Why Small Acts of Kindness & Connection Matter
Fellow travelers, we are living in a challenging time. As headlines become more frightening, bank accounts lower, and paychecks less able to cover daily expenses, it is understandable that we want to narrow our focus to ourselves, our families, and our immediate needs. But we are mammals. We are wired to look out for one another and to survive through connection.
Research and lived experience both tell us that small moments of human connection are protective for both giver and receiver, especially during stressful seasons. They help our nervous systems settle and our minds and hearts remember that we are not alone.
After many revisions, I ultimately settled on “Ubuntu bags” as the final name for the project. Ubuntu – a beautiful African concept that reminds us that we are interconnected and that my humanity depends on your ability to feel that you have worth. In other words, what happens to you matters to me.
Thank You, Eddie
And, dear Eddie, thank you for being such a beautiful part of our village. You inspired me to pause, gain perspective on whatever was stressing me at that moment, and focus on what really mattered: right now and the person in front of me. We lived very different lives, my friend, and I will forever be grateful for the moments when our paths crossed and for how I walked away from our interactions feeling clearer, calmer, and more connected. Thank you for your kindness to my children and for teaching them that we have a responsibility to take care of one another and to treat everyone with dignity and compassion.
I will miss you, Eddie. This weekend, the boys and I are going to make Ubuntu bags in your name. That will always be your corner to me and to so many others. I hope you knew how much you were loved and how much you mattered.
Ubuntu, fellow travelers.
Jennifer
If You’d Like to Make Your Own Ubuntu Bags
Ubuntu Bag 2016
This weekend, we plan to make 12 bags in honor of our neighbor Eddie, and since Austin winter is approaching, these include a few extra cold-weather items in his honor. I’m also including a list of what we typically put in our standard Ubuntu bags.
Ubuntu Bags for Eddie contents:
- Container: Drawstring backpack (I often use large Ziploc bags that can be reused if clothing gets wet)
- Drink: One 12-oz bottle of Gatorade (water also works)
- Lip balm: 2
- Gloves: 1 pair
- Beanie hat: 1
- Socks: 1 pair
- Food: 3 soft cereal bars (easier for people with dental issues)
- Lotion: 1-oz bottle
Our typical Ubuntu bag costs approximately $4–5 each when making 12 bags and usually includes a large plastic bag container, a water bottle, 1–2 pairs of socks, 1–2 lip balms, a lotion bottle, a small pack of bandages, and 2 cereal bars.
Note: In my research, I learned that alcohol-based hand sanitizer can damage packaged food items, so I avoid including it when there are snacks in the bag. A small package of hand wipes is a safer option.
I also typically include a small list of local resources, and a sample list is included at the end of this post. If you decide to make your own bags, I encourage you to tailor the resource list to your own community using local shelters, clinics, food pantries, and support services in your area, such as:
• emergency or homeless shelters (with contact information, hours, and any admission requirements related to gender and age)
• free or sliding-scale medical clinics
• food resources
• clothing resources
Remember: there are no rules or requirements, except to give what works for you and respects your budget. Even simple bottles of water and a few cereal bars are meaningful.
For you, Eddie. You made my heart smile. I hope wherever you are that you feel the love.
And, for you, Angel and Giovanni. May you always try to reach out your hands to help instead of keeping them in your pockets.
Interested in learning more?
Check out our recent blog for other ideas about small acts of practical kindness!
Check out one of our Substack blogs about one of the Ubuntu bag experiences.
Ubuntu Bag Resource Card
You matter. Help is available.
🏠 Shelter
Name: ____________________ Phone: ________________
Area/Hours/Notes: __________________________________________
🩺 Medical Care
Clinic: ____________________ Phone: ________________
Area/Hours/Notes: __________________________________________
🍽 Food
Pantry/Meal Site: ____________________
Days/Times or Location: ____________________________________
👕 Clothing
Organization: ____________________
Days/Times or Location: ____________________________________
📞 Help Finding Services
Call or Text 2‑1‑1 for local housing, food, and medical resources.
If you are in immediate danger, call 911.
You deserve safety, dignity, and care. Please reach out.
© 2025 Jennifer Ayres, PhD | Still River Counseling, PLLC
Written with care for fellow travelers navigating life’s changing currents.
🌐 StillRiverCounseling.com | 📍 Austin, TX
Gentle Reminder:
The reflections shared here are intended to offer insight and support. They are not a substitute for therapy or professional mental-health care, and reading this blog does not create a therapeutic or doctor–patient relationship.
