I was startled when the Starbucks barista handed me my coffee and said it had been paid for. “Who is my benefactor?” I asked. She pointed to a young woman with a slightly Goth appearance who had been ahead of me in line.

Although she and I hadn’t spoken, I suspected she’d been eavesdropping on my conversation with the fellow who was part of a group headed to a church camp, as was she.

I went over to thank her and discovered that random acts of kindness seemed to be her specialty. She modestly accepted my thanks and said she was always on the lookout for ways to share with strangers.

Years before the term random acts of kindness was coined, David Dunn wrote a wonderful book called Try Giving Yourself Away. Dunn first came upon his hobby when he gave away an advertising idea to a railroad. Later he found enormous pleasure in seeing his idea used in ads at railway stations and hotel lobbies.

He writes, “It was thus I made the important discovery that anything which makes one glow with pleasure is beyond money calculation, in this world where there is altogether too much grubbing and too little glowing.

“I began to experiment with giving-away and discovered it to be great fun. I discovered, too, that successful giving-away has to be cultivated. There is a knack to it, just as there is to successful getting.

“Opportunities for reaping dividends of happiness are fleeting. You have to act quickly or they elude you. But that only adds zest to the exercise.”

If you’re in the market for a new hobby, consider the examples of my young benefactor and David Dunn. I have a hunch that the people we see going about their daily business with a smile on their face have already discovered the joy of anonymously making life a little bit better for people who will never repay them—or even know their names.

Decades before anyone talked about random acts of kindness, a man named David Dunn found a new hobby. He wrote about it in a wonderful book called Try Giving Yourself Away which first appeared in 1947.

The story actually began some twenty years earlier when Dunn had an idea while riding on the Twentieth Century Limited from Chicago to New York. He began to wonder where the eastbound and westbound trains passed.

 “Where the Centuries Pass” would make an interesting advertisement he mused. The next day he wrote a letter sharing his idea with the railroad company. They liked the idea and used it on their company calendar for the following year.

“The following summer I traveled extensively, “ Dunn writes. “In almost every railroad station and hotel lobby I entered, both at home and in Europe, hung my Century calendar. It never failed to give me a glow of pleasure.

“It was then I made the important discovery that anything that makes one glow with pleasure is beyond money calculation, in this world where there is too much grubbing and too little glowing.”

Dunn discovered that there was a knack to this newly discovered hobby of his. “Opportunities for reaping dividends of happiness are fleeting. You have to act quickly or they elude you. But that only adds to the zest.”

His book is loaded with suggestions for doing just that. For example, he says, “If I particularly enjoy a book, a magazine article or a play, I write a note to the author, telling him or her of my enjoyment. Sometimes I receive an acknowledgment; more often I do not. It doesn’t matter in the least: I am not collecting autographs. I am just keeping my giving-away machinery in good working order.”

As Try Giving Yourself Away demonstrates so beautifully, gratitude and appreciation are lovely gifts that anyone can deliver and instantly make the world better. Best of all, anyone can build a collection of such experiences that enrich both the giver and receiver.

I thought about David Dunn when I saw this Tweet from Deepak Chopra: “When I give to others, to my community, and to my society, I participate in the creation of abundance in the world.”

Immediately I recalled an experience I had on a drive to California. I had stopped at a Starbucks and found myself in a long line of young people on their way to a church camp. 

When I finally got to the counter, the barista handed me my coffee along with a gift card.

I  was delightfully flabbergasted. “Who is my benefactor?” I asked. She pointed at a young woman who was flaunting several tatoos and piercings. 

I walked over to thank her and ended up having a lovely conversation. I also realized we probably would never have spoken to each other had it not been for her surprising act of generosity.

There’s an even bigger reward in all of this. As Dunn discovered, “As giving-away became a habit rather than a hobby, I felt a new sense of warmth in all my relations with people.” 

Unfortunately, Dunn’s book is no longer in print, although there are used copies still floating around. If you can locate one, it will make a fine addition to your library.

Imagine what could happen if millions of people made giving-away a habit. Mind-boggling, isn’t it?