Bill Bryson, in his book I’m a Stranger Here Myself: Notes on Returning to America After Twenty Years Away, wrote a compelling address to a graduating class. All of the speech was notable, but two parts grabbed my shirt collar and shook me.

Take a moment from time to time to remember that you are alive. I know this sounds a trifle obvious, but it is amazing how little time we take to remark upon this singular and gratifying fact. By the most astounding stroke of luck an infinitesimal portion of all the matter in the universe came together to create you and for the tiniest moment in the great span of eternity you have the incomparable privilege to exist.

For endless eons there was no you. Before you know it, you will cease to be again. And in between you have this wonderful opportunity to see and feel and think and do. Whatever else you do with your life, nothing will remotely compare wiht the incredible accomplishment of having managed to get yourself born. Congratulations. Well done. You really are special.

Ah, Bill, how I wish ye lived on my shoulder to whisper this whenever I forget. But let me not neglect an equally important point. Bryson continues:

But not that special. There are five billion other people on this planet, every one of them just as important, just as central to the great scheme of things, as you are. Don’t ever make the horrible, unworthy mistake of thinking yourself more vital and significant than anyone else. Nearly all the people you encounter in life merit your consideration. Many of them will be there to help you — to deliver your pizza, bag your groceries, clean up the motel room you have made such a lavish mess of. If you are not in the habit of being extremely nice to these people, then get in the habit now.

Millions more people, most of whom you will never meet or even see, won’t help you, indeed can’t help you, may not even be able to help themselves. They deserve your compassion. We live in a sadly heartless age, when we seem to have less and less space in our consciences and our pocketbooks for the poor and lame and dispossessed, particularly those in far-off lands. I am making it your assignment to do something about it.

Again, the reminder is a worthy one. What about you? What one thing, however small, will you do — today — to better the world? One small action will have a positive impact. Yes. It really will. Ah, you wonder what it is I’ve done? Well, today I ordered books to give to my ten students at the end of the year. (The fourth graders will get The Cricket in Times Square, and the fifth graders will receive Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH.) I also wrote a check to support Modest Needs. I’ll see you that and raise you one act of kindness.

I highly recommend you get your hands on this book. Bryson’s puckish, astute views on life and his ability to poke fun at himself make me hope he continues writing for a long, long time to come.