Kindness Is Not Always Returned Elena Tretvachenko   © Copyright 2026 by Elena Tretvachenko

Photo by Dan Edge on Unsplash

Her aunt opened the fridge and said in shock.

“Anna, what did you do?”

We saw a big, beautiful cake with blue flowers, and it had been bitten all the way around the edges. For a moment, I thought it was part of the design. But it was not.

Anna stood up and screamed

“It is my birthday and my cake!”

Everyone laughed. And her mother said with a smile,

“It was a cake for everyone to celebrate your birthday. To share food and good emotions. Now we don’t have a cake. What will we have with tea?”

She called her factory, and we got cake later.

Next month, she offered to go to Croatia with them.

“Elena, you just need to talk to them in English and encourage them to speak with others. I think it will be a great experience for them. They like you. Work and Travel for you. What do you think?”

It was a juicy offer, and I agreed.

During the trip, we explained that it is very important to share, as it helps to build good friendships. We were sitting in a car in the parking lot, and her mother went to buy some food and drinks.

“I am thirsty, do you have anything to drink, Elena?”

“I have some milk, is it ok?”

“Me too, me too.” Anna reached into my bag, stretching out her hand.

I pulled out a small bottle of milk that I took from a hotel where we stayed. I looked at Gleb and Anna and hesitated. Gleb was eleven years old, and Anna was younger and a girl.

I gave her a bottle and said

“Drink a bit and give the rest to your brother. I have only one bottle of milk. You have to share it.”

Anna greedily grabbed a bottle of milk and gulped it down eagerly.

“Anna, leave some for Gleb.”

But she handed him an empty bottle with a smile

“It was delicious.”

“You weren’t thirsty at all,” he said. “You did it on purpose.”

“You never know,” she told him, smiling.

“Anna,” I said, shaking my head.

We were on the boat, enjoying the sea trip. We had some fruit for the kids. Anna saw a boy and a girl on the boat, but she did not know how to approach them.

I said

“It is easy, just go and say hello.”

“Maybe they don’t speak English.”

“They do.” I pushed her, “Go, I am here if you need help.”

Her mother handed her a plate of fruit and said

“Get them some fruit.”

She came up with a plate of fruit and said

“Hello, would you like some watermelon?” she said with an open smile.

They smiled at her, and within minutes, all the children were sitting on the bench, talking, laughing, and eating watermelon. Anna made friends with children from Switzerland. They gave her Swiss candy, and she was happy.

When we were at the hotel, she told me again and again about them, about their dog and their favorite toys.

“They were so nice, right? They gave me candy.”

I said

“It works like this: you share your things, and people share theirs with you. And you become closer.”

Throughout our trip, Anna checked this theory and shared with everyone what she had, and people gave her something back, candy, fruits, and small things. She was so happy.

On the way home on the train from Moscow to our hometown, she was running in the corridor of the train and came to our compartment, and asked

“I saw children in the next compartment. Can I take some chocolate from Croatia and give it to them, and make friends?”

“Sure,” said her mother, “Just if you don’t bother them.”

She took a box of chocolates and left. She was there for a while. When she came back, she looked upset; she was sitting on a seat with tight lips.

“What happened?”

She burst into tears.

“They are bad people!”

Her mother put her on her lap, stroked her head, and asked

“Tell me what was going on?”

“They ate my chocolate but did not give me anything in return.”

I smiled and said

“You know, sometimes people don’t have anything to share.”

“They had! I saw! The table was full of food! But they gave me nothing!”

We burst into laughter.

“Probably, they are greedy,” said her brother.

“Sometimes it works like this,” her mother said.

She didn’t understand what had just happened and was waiting for my answer.

“You know, my mother taught me: if you want to do something kind for someone, just do it, but don't wait for a thank you because it was your choice. You did it for yourself.”

Her eyes were dry, and she said

“I am good. They are bad.”

She was sitting there, confused and hurt, trying to understand what went wrong.

That was the moment I understood: we teach children to share, but we don’t teach them what to do when others don’t.

We teach them to be open and kind, but not how to deal with indifference. And we tell them that sharing makes them good — but we don’t tell them that kindness is not always returned. No one prepares them for disappointment.

Elena Tretyachenko is a Russian writer currently living in Vietnam. Her work explores themes of displacement, emotional survival, and the search for belonging. Drawing from personal experience, she writes about rupture, resilience, and the quiet transformations that follow loss.