During the final years of the 1980s, I was embarking on a low-cost journey to the European continent with a friend. Since my companion was exploring starting a postgraduate program in New York, we had planned a fortnight visit there en route to London.
We reached the graduate housing, a sizeable ten-floor structure on the Manhattan's Upper West Side called International House. After dropping our bags, we headed straight to the canteen, where we grabbed food, took a seat, and engaged in conversation with other diners.
Beside me was an individual of Iraqi origin enrolled in an engineering program at a prestigious New York university. He inquired what I did for a living, and I explained that I had just graduated with a scientific background and had been conducting research using an electron microscope.
He pointed out that there was an electron microscope unit at Columbia University – right next door to the engineering faculty, which was why he was aware of it. He recommended that I consider applying for a job with them. I dismissed the idea, saying that I was heading off to Europe and, more critically, I didn’t have a US visa.
The following day I ventured out, coming back to the dining hall that after dark. The man from Iraq approached me and let me know that he had set up a meeting for me with the leader of the research team at Columbia. Because he had made the arrangement, I went to the meeting – but right away explained to my interviewer that I didn’t have a visa, so I was unable to accept the role.
As is common in NYC – a city where anything feels possible – she declared: “We can make that happen. How soon can you begin?” I missed my plane to London.
I held that position for a trio of years. An advantage of the role was that I also received complimentary education at Columbia, and I seized the chance to finish a master’s of international affairs.
We didn't cross paths after that and I don’t even know his identity, but his incredible act of kindness altered my destiny in multiple respects. I didn't possess the courage or nerve to approach someone at an Ivy League university and ask for a job. Additionally, I had consistently hoped to take classes in another country, but could never have afforded it without that educational benefit.
Critically, that gig at Columbia led me to a role in Europe where I encountered my beautiful French husband, with whom I now have four wonderful sons and daughters. That encounter altered everything. That helpful person set me on a different course in life, and I’m eternally thankful.
What is the Nicest Thing a Stranger Has Shown for You?
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