A day of peace

Someone on Facebook came up with this "event" scheduled for today.  The event is called "A Day Of Peace".  Here's the idea, which I've copied and pasted in its entirety:  

Please read the whole thing!
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I have an idea... for a day of peace. Wouldn't it be amazing?
Just one day in the year where we all held our tongues.
A day where we ignored others' shortcomings and made a valiant effort to be kind and understanding.
A day where we all got along. It's sad that we are all at a point where we should do this, but it's even sadder to know that we easily could every day, but refuse to do so.

My proposition is simple:
One day, March 4th, we all stick to three simple rules that will make the world a little bit more bearable. Feel free to partake in this before and long after then; the only reason I have the event set that far into the future is because I want word to spread and allow this to have as big of an impact as possible.
This event is to take place everywhere we go in the world, preferably all the time.
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Rule #1.
Say not a single unkind thing about anyone or anything. If at all possible, try not to even think a nasty thought. If we do, reflect on why it was that we thought to say it in the first place.
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Rule #2.
Show everyone we cross paths with some genuine human compassion. Be it with a smile or kind words, just spread some love.
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Rule #3.
Make not one person the exception to the rule. Not everyone deserves to have roses thrown at their feet and have a holiday in their honor, but nobody deserves to feel alone. Reach out. Talk to someone new. Care about them, and we will be cared for in return.  

I realize these are things we should all be doing every day, but I, for one, don't.  It's so easy to look at the people nearby and call them "crazy" or "lazy, to slip so deep in the rut of holier-than-thou that you become comfortable in it.  So for today, I'm going to try very hard to do all the above things.  I've fallen into the habit of being critical and judgmental, of fault-finding and nitpicking.  Yes, I have.  

Perhaps, just for today, I can behave myself.  

An incident from today

Cliff is too sick to go to work today; he got up around ten o'clock and sat in his chair until the Tylenol started wearing off; now he's back in bed.  He asked for more Tylenol, but I reminded him this timed-release version should only be taken every eight hours.  
While the Tylenol was still working for him, lunchtime was approaching, and all Cliff had for breakfast was a half-cup of tomato soup with some crackers.  "Just let me know if you want some lunch," I said.  "I can reheat the tomato soup or fix you something else; personally, I'm going to take this opportunity to have a grilled cheese sandwich."  
"Yeah, that's what I'll have too; a grilled cheese sandwich."  
"But Cliff, you hate grilled cheese sandwiches."  
"I do?"
It's true, he does; he's just forgotten because it's been years since he had one.  Back when we could eat anything we wanted, he let me know early on that grilled cheese wasn't his favorite.  I, on the other hand, love them; anything with melted cheese is good, in my book.  
"Now Cliff," I told him, "I am not going to use this occasion, just because you're sick, to give you something that (a) you don't like, and (b) isn't good for you.  
So I ditched my plans for a cheese sandwich, got frozen veggies and cooked chicken from the deep freeze, and started making our healthy version of chicken gumbo... feeling sorry for myself, of course, because I WANTED MELTED CHEESE.  
As I mixed and added ingredients to the gumbo pan, I thought to myself, "He's in the recliner; he hasn't moved out of it once since he got out of bed.  How would he know if I made a grilled cheese sandwich?"  
So I heated up a cast iron skillet on another burner and started putting my longed-for sandwich together.  
I'd just turned it over in the skillet when I heard Cliff getting out of the recliner.  Uh-oh.  
I grabbed a lid and placed it on the skillet so he wouldn't see what was in it.  
Turns out he had decided to go to bed for awhile; he was feeling pretty puny.  I probably didn't need to cover my evil food.  
Would you believe that was the awfullest-tasting grilled cheese sandwich I've ever had in my life?  I don't know if it was due to guilt (me sneaking around trying to do something without Cliff seeing it), the whole-wheat bread I used, or the fact that I still have a slight fever.  
I can assure you I won't be having a grilled cheese sandwich for awhile.  I've paid my dues.