In my experience, "nice" is toward one end of a spectrum of social-interaction behaviors while "gruff" is toward the other end of that spectrum. Kindness, thoug

In my experience, "nice" is toward one end of a spectrum of social-interaction behaviors while "gruff" is toward the other end of that spectrum. Kindness, though, is measured in deeds. The kindest person I've ever encountered was also the gruffest. I'll call him Brother John. I lived in close quarters with him for not quite a year along with a dozen other persons: shared small quarters (lots of bunk beds), meals, chores, recreation, etc. Outside of our living situation the work was back-breaking 24/7/365: running an orphanage plus a home for the infirm. Altogether the ratio was, on average, about 15:1 (residents to care workers). The context was Cap-Haïtien in the early 2000s. There was no backstop, someone needed something you did it for them: sad, you hugged them; hungry, you fed them; poopy, you cleaned them (again); dead, you buried them; and so on. I didn't get along well with Brother John. For the first couple of months, I would smile and acquiesce. It didn't take me long to realize no one got along with him: not the folks within our little community, nor anyone in the surrounding neighborhood... maybe most everyone in the surrounding city had felt his porcupine quills when crossing paths with him? About 8 months in (my time there), Brother John was reassigned; he was sent to one of the community's apostolates in western Africa. His reassignment and departure happened abruptly. An eruption of grief ensued promptly. The thing is, despite his gruffness, Brother John was among the most caring/kindest persons you might ever meet. You needed something: diaper changed? itch scratched? big bag of rice for your family? firm slap in the face? ride to an hours-distant mission hospital? housing for your dead-relation's children? close to death and needed to cry and talk about your fears? He would size up your need and take care of it, or explain why it was beyond his reach (though he'd probably try regardless). And he'd somehow get it done before anyone else barely had time to blink. He'd been doing that for years. People didn't love Brother John and lament his loss after weighing his lack of nice-ness. They knew and experienced him for what he was: a kind man whose like is rare, someone you tell your kids and grandkids about, gruffness and all, with a hope they take it as a lesson about how to selflessly serve your neighbors.