The time I got sick in Switzerland and a complete stranger cared for me?
It was the summer of 2024, during our retirement celebration trip after I finally walked away from more than 35 years in the mortgage industry. We had spent several days traveling through Switzerland, taking in the Alps, exploring Basel, and enjoying everything this beautiful country had to offer.
But one day in particular stands out for a reason that had absolutely nothing to do with sightseeing.
I went to bed the night before feeling unusually tired. When I woke up the next morning, I knew something wasn't right. My head hurt, I was coughing, my nose was completely stuffed up, and my stomach ached. I wasn't nauseous, but I certainly wasn't feeling up to doing much of anything.
When Mr. Whaldo came out of the shower, he was surprised to find me still in bed. He asked if I wanted to go down for breakfast, but I couldn't muster the energy. I decided to stay put while he went down on his own.
As he was leaving, he ran into one of the hotel's housekeeping staff. She asked whether she should clean our room, and he explained that I wasn't feeling well and it would probably be best to let me rest.
When he returned from breakfast, I wasn't doing much better. He decided to go out and refill my water bottle with fresh drinking water. Once again, he ran into the same woman. She asked about me, and he told her I still wasn't feeling well.
She asked him a few questions.
When he returned to the room, he found the woman and her supervisor. Both of them seemed genuinely concerned about me.
The supervisor wanted to know what symptoms I was experiencing and whether I had any medication with me that might help. After a brief conversation, she told my husband that she knew what to do and would be right back.
A short while later, there was a soft knock at our door.
It was the woman from housekeeping.
She came into the room carrying what looked like a coffee pot from a Mr. Coffee machine. Only this one wasn't filled with coffee. It was filled with hot water and fresh lemon slices. Lots of them. She set the pot on a little hot plate to keep it warm and poured me a cup.
She also brought a small plate of fresh fruit in case I felt well enough to eat something.
I remember her eyes. They were the kindest eyes, and her voice was just as gentle. She spoke to me while I was lying in bed, explaining what I needed to do. She was very sincere and quite determined that I drink the entire pot of lemon water. All eight cups of it!
Her instructions were simple. Drink it slowly, one cup at a time. Stay in bed. Rest between cups. She would come back to check on me.
And she did.
I didn't gulp it down or try to get through it quickly. I followed her instructions. I'd sip a cup, rest for a while, sometimes fall asleep for half an hour, and then drink another. I slowly worked my way through that enormous pot of hot lemon water.
By the time I had finished it, I was beginning to feel better.
She came back to check on me twice more. Each time, I could see the genuine concern in her eyes. By lunchtime, I felt well enough to eat some of the fresh fruit she'd brought. By the afternoon, I felt much better.
The last time she came by, she brought some of her housekeeping team with her to collect the coffee pot, hot plate, and dishes. She took one look at me and could see that I was feeling better. Her face lit up with a smile I can only describe as a pleased mother's.
She told us that she had been raised with this remedy and that it always worked. I honestly don't remember whether there was a little honey mixed in with the lemon water. What I remember is the warmth of that drink, her gentle instructions, and those incredibly kind eyes.
And I remember feeling cared for.
My husband and I have talked about that day many times since. We didn't expect it, and we certainly didn't ask for it. This woman noticed a hotel guest was sick, took an interest in her well-being, and went out of her way to help.
There was no money exchanged. No expectation of a tip. No special recognition or reward. She simply saw someone who needed a little care and decided to do something about it.
I have traveled to many places and experienced some wonderful hospitality along the way. But there is a difference between good service and genuine human kindness. Good service is often part of someone's job. What this woman did went well beyond that.
I don't know her name. I wish I did. I don't even know whether she remembers that day, or the American woman who spent much of it in bed, drinking an entire coffee pot of hot lemon water.
But I remember her.
When I think about our time in Basel, I remember the beautiful Rhine, the Swiss National Day celebrations, the mountains, and the wonderful adventures we had. But I also remember a woman from the housekeeping staff who made sure a stranger was okay.
Sometimes the most memorable parts of traveling aren't found in guidebooks, museums, or spectacular landscapes. They're found in the unexpected kindness of another person. In these crazy, stressful times, I find myself thinking about that woman in Basel every now and then. I remember her sincere, caring eyes, the pot of hot lemon water, and how she took the time to look after someone she didn't even know. It's a simple reminder that kindness is still out there, often when and where you least expect it.
- J.S. Whaldo
