Work Text:
She had known immense sadness in her life, lost many important people and things, starting from a young age, but she tried her best not to let it make her a dour and sad person. It had made her mother sad, her brother angry, and there were times neither of them could understand why she seemed so happy. Happiness was her reaction to all the ill blows that life had dealt her because she knew not everyone was going to appreciate it. It was the hardest thing in the world to be kind when people were taught from a young age just how cruel the world could be.
Kindness was the most brilliant act of rebellion she could think of, really.
There was a quote that an older woman who had befriended her during her turbulent childhood had told her. She was a neighbour who had often watched her and her brother while her mum was dealing with her father and his various illnesses, and Molly had gone there often even when she had no reason to be because her own home had always seemed to be too sad, and it weighed on her like a heavy cloak. Mrs. Maddigan always tried to impart valuable lessons and while her brother didn’t listen, she did. The one that stuck most was “Be kinder than need be; everyone is fighting some kind of battle.”
She had used that most in her life. When her friends lost relatives important to them, before and after she lost her own fair share (to old age, to illness, to drugs and violence, to depression), she was always there to be kind and lend comfort and strength. When she could spare some quid and maybe a hot meal to top it off, the money and the food went to buskers. Panhandlers. Various members of Sherlock’s homeless network later in her life, sometimes with enough for safe shelter at a hotel for the night. She knew her privileges, that she had a secure income, her health, and her happiness, so why not share her blessings?
Her time when she wasn’t working or helping friends with things was sometimes spent with organizations that did good works. She enjoyed doing things like that because it made her heart full, made her think that these were the things her father and Mrs. Maddigan, Lord rest her soul, would have wanted her to do. She wanted to make them proud and lift other people up, whatever their battles were.
Oh, there were times the sadness was too much, and she would cry in the privacy of her home, then splash cold water on her face, make a cuppa, take a deep breath and steel up her reserve. There was another day that would dawn, another chance to face it and be kind.
Knowing sadness had made her kind, and she would always prefer being kind to being sad.