Stephanie Says.. Take a walk inside my head

(This is going to be a long post. For that, I’m sorry.)

Do you know the story of the starfish and the little girl? It begins with a little girl walking along a beach where a host of starfish had been stranded. One by one, the little girl picked up a starfish and threw it (them) back into the ocean. A man happened to be jogging by and caught her efforts. “Don’t you know,” he asked her “that there are so many starfish drying on the beach that you cannot possibly get to them all? What difference can you really make?” The little girl smiled, shook her head and pitched another starfish into the deep. “It made,” she informed her doubter, “a difference to that one.”

In talking with several of my friends (in several parts of the world), I am discovering that -making a difference- is something that most of us yearn for. We do not, however, know where to start. We imagine ourselves having to be wealthy beyond possibility, funding disease research, building schools, having medicines named after ourselves.

We forget that we are building a community, a world, one starfish, one ocean wave at a time.

It’s hard. I know.
People are careless. People are casually cruel.
People are thoughtless and heedless and break our hearts.

And we don’t WANT to build a world of love and kindness. We WANT to get even. We WANT to inflict pain on the people who just inflicted pain on us.

Our hearts, they bleed. They seethe. They churn and writhe and fill with bitterness and confusion.

Honestly though? That’s a terrible way to live.
I know. I’m preaching to myself here.
I can be just as hypocritical as the next guy, proclaiming peace while actually filled with selfishness or pride.

I HATE being ignored. I HATE being misunderstood. And I HATE having my heart broken by the people who are supposed to love me the most.

You know what though? At one time, I too, was a starfish. Somebody picked me up, got me out of the sun and threw me back into the coolness of the water.
I was a starfish. I was rescued.
I’m willing to bet you were too.

They are all around us. Brittle, drying, getting sand in places that sand was never meant to go. They are hurt. They are broken.

And we don’t have to be rich to reach out to them. We don’t have to be smart. We don’t have to be beautiful. We just have to care.

It’s been a rough season in my world. It’s also been one of reflection. There are people to this day who don’t know what they mean to me. A look. A touch. A fitly spoken word. These all have lifted me up and given me life. I hope someday to do the same for others.

I too, want to make a difference. Wayne helped me compile this list of ways to do so:

Write a letter to someone who has influenced you.
Write a note of encouragement to someone who is setting a good example.
Write a note of encouragement to someone who is striving to reach a new goal.
Smile.
Leave a note of thanks for your mail person or garbage person.
Tell a co worker what you appreciate about them.
Teach someone to drive, ride a bike, play tennis, swim…
Visit someone who may not be able to get out much.
Babysit for new parents, or come over to help while a new mother naps.
Help a friend organize a closet.
Bake cookies or brownies for your local fire or police department.
Write a note of appreciation to your pastor or other church staff.
Listen without trying to find a space to insert your own opinion.
Instead of throwing away your child’s stories and artwork, write an encouraging note on the top of them and take them to the local hospital or nursing home.
Donate your scrap paper to teachers, hospitals or your local pharmacy.
Get to know the youth of your church. Have a make over party complete with funny hairstyles and popcorn.
Interview a senior citizen. Put the stories that they tell you into a keepsake book.
Actually pray for the people on your list.
Teach a new bride how to cook.
Take a senior citizen to a doctor’s appointment or to pick up their prescriptions.
“Adopt” a local senior citizen as an honorary “grandparent”.
Organize a neighborhood talent show.
Host a board game party for college students.
Have a knick knack swap. Exchange knick knacks with your friends and neighbors and redecorate to have a whole new room!
Change the toilet paper roll without your spouse having to ask.
Walk the dog of a friend or neighbor who works during the day.
Pass on the coupons that you get in the mail.
Play games for charity, such as freerice.com
Volunteer with your local school or library.
Let a child who is learning to read share a story with you.
Mow the grass of a single parent.
Pay for someone’s dinner.
Get “caught” bragging on your children or your spouse.
Volunteer to disinfect the toys in your church nursery.
Coach a Little League team or Scout troop.
Read or sing to children at a local school.
Make sock dolls or teddy bears for children in the hospital.
Make baby blankets for a crisis pregnancy center or maternity ward.
Help plan a class or family reunion.
Write a story for a small child and let them illustrate it.
Encourage a shy friend by taking a class or trying out for a play with them.
Present your wife with ballroom dancing lessons.
Organize dinners for a friend who is going through a hard time.
Collect spare change throughout the year and donate it to a missions offering or charity.
See if the local historical society wants to look at the contents of your attic.
Spend time with your parents organizing and labeling old pictures.
Tutor a student struggling with their schoolwork.
String cereal on some yarn as a kind of birdfeeder.
Let a small child tell you a knock knock joke (even if it doesn’t make any sense).
Mail a care package to a college student.
Take a stressed friend out for coffee or ice cream.
Attend a concert or play or recital in support of a friend or their child.
Collect underwear and socks for a local hospital or homeless shelter.
Teach a child an old song or dance.
Don’t always say what you are thinking.
Cheerfully fill your spouse’s coffee cup without saying “You have legs. Get it yourself.”
Shovel snow for an elderly neighbor.
Collect food and supplies into backpacks to donate to local schools.
Give someone the benefit of the doubt.
Offer to rock a crying baby so a new mom or dad can enjoy a church service/concert/event.
Tip a waiter or waitress for excellent service.
Brag on a service industry worker to their supervisor.
Clean the house of a sick or exhausted friend.
Give hugs. Give many hugs.
Host a neighborhood potluck or movie night.
Encourage someone in their interests or emerging talents.
Help a teenager make a movie or put on a play.
Choose to believe the best in people.
Support a local band or community theatre.
Donate old clothes and household items to a local theatre.
Be available during a church service or revival for prayer with those in need.
Teach or lead an after school class or summer camp.
Donate samples of toothbrushes and hygiene items to a homeless ministry.
Help someone work on their resume.
Supply lemonade or popsicles to a local sports team.
Lend or donate old or used furniture to newlyweds or someone living on their own for the first time.
Slip a love note into your spouse’s purse or pocket.
Slip a cute cartoon or drawing into your child’s lunch.
Tell your church pianist how much you appreciate them.
Take a walk in the rain with someone you love.
Share a meaningful poem or song with your family members.
Tell your child stories of when you were their age.
Leave a penny in a leave a penny take a penny box.
Watch a movie just because a loved one wants to.
Hold the door open for someone.
Help someone label and organize their family pictures.
Take over a responsibility that usually belongs to a stressed out loved one.
Tell a young person you are proud of them.
Take someone who is housebound out for an afternoon drive.
Let someone go ahead of you in line.
Present your favorite teacher, librarian, office worker, secretary with a rose.
Wish someone a good day.
Host a girls’ night out or slumber party.
Take someone out to dinner.
Write someone a poem.
Keep a journal over a year, or five, or ten of letters to your loved one/child/partner. Present it to them on their birthday or special date.
Babysit for an overwhelmed single mom or friend who is going back to school.
Vacuum or dust for a new mom.
Compile a book of Scriptures and notes for your local minister. Let them know how much they are appreciated.
Make a mix tape/CD of songs that remind you of someone special.
Take your loved one on a date. Fall in love all over again.
Call your mother.
Run in a charity race.
Sponsor someone who is participating in a walk-a-thon.
Slip a love note into someone’s lunch or bag or briefcase.
Take someone to a movie that they want to see, even if you know you won’t like it.
Give someone flowers just because.
Write a song or story. Personalize it for someone you love.
Spend time with an older person or a child and just listen.
Put a little extra in your church’s offering plate.
Read a book that your spouse is reading.
Refuse to participate in teasing someone.
Put things in a trash can instead of on the ground.
Rub someone’s shoulders.
Take care of someone’s pet.
Share your umbrella.
Handle interruptions gracefully.
Keep a list of things for which you are grateful.
Take care of someone’s tab.
Think before you speak.
Organize a teddy bear drive. Donate to a local hospital, children’s home or police department.
Take your loved one to play in the snow or dance in the rain.
Pray for the people in your life.
Make bags for homeless people. Fill with easy to open tins of fruit, napkins, toothpaste, washcloths, soap, combs and other food and toiletries.
Take a young person camping.
Use your creative talents to make church, school or work bulletin boards.
Use stray boxes, buttons and colored paper to make instruments for the children in your life.
Let your pastor know specific ways his sermons have blessed you.
Turn off all the lights and have a candlelit camp out on your living room floor, complete with sleeping bags and silly stories.
Organize a multigenerational family picture day. Get special shots of your grandparents and all their descendants.
Check in with someone who has been missing work or church. Sometimes a simple “Is everything okay?” goes a long way in showing that people care.
Become someone’s exercise buddy.
Donate your wedding attire to a service man or woman who is soon to be deployed.
Try to see the best in people. Have faith in others.
Go through your old pictures. Instead of throwing them away, make scrapbooks for your friends and family.
Lend someone a shoulder to cry on.
Create a safe space. Justify the trust people have in you.
Pay the toll for the car behind you.
Bring someone a cup of coffee just because.
Do more than what is asked of you.
Take a nap. Sometimes you just need to decompress.
Ask your church staff for specific ways in which you can serve. Be willing to lend a hand.
Brush and braid someone’s hair.
Be willing to donate your coats, blankets and heaters to people who are cold.
Color a picture for someone you love.
Give credit where credit is due.
Help organize a club, class or family reunion.
Volunteer to help someone on a school project or with a school paper.
Help start a community garden.
Host an “All About You” day to honor someone you love.
Serve breakfast for dinner.
Keep a “Reasons Why We’re Thankful” board and encourage your family members to add to it.
Skip a church service or two. Find an adjacent room to pray for the pastor and congregation instead.
Be willing to say “I don’t know, but we can find out” when a child asks you a question.
Donate gently used magazines to a local doctor’s office or hospital.
Take a tour of your hometown and discover its unique charms.
Put on some old music and dance. Invite your kids to join in.
Start someone’s car on a cold day to warm it up.
Be happy and not jealous at a friend’s good news.
Teach young people how to make snow angels.
Pet a dog or cat to lower blood pressure.
Make confetti hearts out of scrap paper and put them in cards for people.
Make a game out of looking for hearts, stars and smiley faces in the patterns and designs around you.

I was, let’s say, eleven or twelve years old.  For some reason, I was with my mother and other ladies from our church.  I don’t remember the conference.  I don’t remember the city.  But I do remember the feeling.  I was embarassed.  I was ashamed.  And I was about to cry.

See, I was just barely too old for the Kid’s Meal at the Wendy’s where we had stopped to eat.  So I got my very first Single Combo (with a Frosty).  I carefully carried my tray over to the condiment/straw/napkin station and *whup*…my first “adult” meal ended up all over the floor.

I was mortified.  I stood, frozen, not sure what to do. 

And then he came over.  I never got his name.  I don’t know how many crying little girls he delt with on a daily basis, but to me he was not just the manager, he was the man who saved my day.  He spoke softly.  He got my mess cleaned up.  And he gave me another meal.  Just like that, for free.

He probably doesn’t remember me.  But I remember him.  And I’m grateful for the people who didn’t have to, but did.

Like my brother.  By the time I was in college, we weren’t that close anymore.  Growing up, we moved several times and had a built in friend in each other.  But I started college when he started high school and we didn’t see each other that much anymore. 

Except, of course, for summers.  By my junior year, I was dating Kenny and often out at the movies or on a picnic or something.  And Clay was off with his band or his girlfriend or his sports teams.  We each had our own phone lines (which came in handy the night my door got stuck and I couldn’t get out of my room, but that’s another story), our own computers, our own lives.

And then came the fight.  Kenny and I fought a lot in those days.  Politics, religion, not complimenting my dress, anything could set me off.  I started most of the fights but Kenny knew how to finish them.  It didn’t take a lot to light my fuse, but it didn’t take much to set off my tears either.  And one night, I was crying and sniffling and very unsure if I was going to have a boyfriend in the morning.

Normally, I would have gone to my room, picked up a book and cried myself to sleep.  That’s what I would have normally done, but I didn’t want to be alone.  So I knocked on Clay’s door (a hallway–and a world–across from my own).  I didn’t expect him to answer, but he did.  He took one look at my face, ended the phone call he was engaged in and ushered me into his room.

We didn’t talk much at all.  What we did was watch an old tape of -Red Sonja-, but it meant the world to me.  I went to bed with tears dried and in the morning, of course, I did have a boyfriend.  It all worked out, but it wouldn’t have been as smooth if not for my brother.

Our Christmas musicals wouldn’t have been as smooth if not for Kenny’s friend Jeff.  A couple of years ago, we wanted to branch out from the traditional Mary, Joseph, doll wrapped in a blanket to represent Baby Jesus.  We had a drama that worked to have both live actors and parts on videotape and Jeff did a great job presenting the flashback scenes.  He simulated airport noises and rental car voices.  The next year, he drove around town to make it look as if the actors were riding in a car.  He and Kenny have big plans for future presentations and I’m sure that as technology progresses, our Christmas musicals will be the highlight of the season.

This past Christmas season was delayed for our household.  The Wednesday before Christmas, Kenny and I were working late.  As usual, Kenny asked what I wanted for supper.  Normally, this question would not be cause for concern, but that day I felt terrible.  I had an upset stomach and just wanted to go home.

Kenny knows my erratic eating habits and we discussed whether or not supper would actually make me feel better.  I was game if he was, so off we went to the Chinese buffet.

Big mistake.  Walking in the door was okay.  Getting my first plateful of food was okay.  Taking my first bite was a disaster.  Kenny got back to the table, took one look at me and knew trouble was coming.  Before he could ask if I felt okay, I was up and to the bathroom.  Before I could even close the door, my dinner (and lunch and breakfast) was all over the floor.

Once again I was at dinner.  In public.  Humiliated. Ashamed.  And crying.

Kenny quickly assured the owners that their food wasn’t to blame.  The mess was cleaned up.  Kenny continued eating.  And I was sipping my tea, getting ahold of myself.

Until the waitress came over.  All she said was “Are you okay?” and the tears started flowing again.  No, not tears, buckets.  I was crying and shaking and very very embarassed. 

The waitress didn’t mind.  She bent over, put her arms around me and began to rock me as if I were a small child.  Stroking my hair, she whispered “It’s okay” like a mantra until I began to believe it -was- going to be okay.

It was, of course.  The owner didn’t charge for my meal, the waitress kept bringing me sweet tea, I spent four days in bed and life went on. 

But she will become part of my story.  I didn’t get her name, but I know her attitude and her heart.  It is kind.  It is loving.  And it makes you believe everything will be okay.

As did Sam Adams.  Yes, his name we got.  We were cold and frustrated and stuck on a ditch when he came along.  It had been raining and snowing and the roads were icy and dangerous.  Our four wheel drive was out and Kenny took the extreme measure of putting me behind the wheel to hit the brake when he told me to.  I was shivering and scared…and silent, which should tell you how scared I was.

We weren’t the only car on the road.  We were just the only car headed for the ditch beside it.  Kenny pushed, Kenny turned the wheels.  Kenny did everything but give up when Sam Adams came along.  He was in a little truck with a little rope.  He was determined to pull us back onto the road even if it meant delaying his trip.

I was still scared, but I was back in the passenger seat and watching them tie the ropes onto the vehicles when Kenny came to the window.  “I think we’ve just met a soldier,” he said.  That made me pay closer attention.  We have great respect for soldiers in our household.  Sure enough, Sam Adams was calling us “sir” and “ma’am”.  He was heading to Fort Knox.  He had a short haircut.  And he couldn’t believe that no one had stopped to help before he did.

We’re not sure how to thank him, really.  We know that the road would have thawed out eventually and we would have gotten home to our cats one way or another.  But we also know that in a way, he saved us.  We didn’t have to spend the night on the side of the road.  We didn’t have to sleep in the cold.  And we didn’t have to stay stranded in a ditch.

He took time out of his travel schedule to help strangers.  The waitress put aside her personal discomfort to hold a shaken girl.  Jeff gave of his time and talent for very little earthly reward.  Clay gave up a night with friends to invite his emotional sister in for a movie.  And the guy at Wendy’s made a weekend of travel so much more than a conference.

They may have not wanted to.

They certainly didn’t have to.

But, oh, I am so glad they did.

 

Some of you are concerned about the tone of my last post.  I myself am concerned about the tone of my last post. So,…in a spirit of “I am doing better”, here are some things on the Internet that I like:

 First is the aforementioned -Cracked-.  It’s a satirical, often irreverant website that talks a lot about sex and cuss words (often in list form).  As a good little girl, part of me is appalled at the language.  But the other part of me finds it sooo funny.  My favorite post so far addressed Biblical “superpowers” and how they are so much cooler than anything posessed by Superman and his ilk.  Who knew that Elijah and Elisha wielded so much charisma?

 I also play a lot on You Tube.  For some reason, I don’t often turn the speakers on at home, so I spend the time that Kenny is working after hours looking up videos (mostly from the ’80’s) and singing along.  I got stuck on Tiffany’s version of “I Think We’re Alone Now” last week.  This week I’m moving on to one of my favorite songs ever, Belinda Carlisle’s “Half the World”.  Next week, I think I’m going to look up Vanessa Williams’ “Save the Best for Last”.

And now we come to my favorite, favorite site.  If you don’t know www.booksfree.com, you should.  It is, of course, not free, but the membership fee is so worth it.  All I have to do is make a list of books that I want  to “rent” (kind of like the DVD list on Netflix), order them by how quickly I want to read them and wait for my little pre paid envelope to arrive.  This has greatly cut down on bookstore fees, and, since I tend to read a book once then give it away, makes Kenny very happy.  One could, of course, get the same service from one’s local library, but for some reason I never go there.  However, I spend tons of time on-line so this fits my lifestyle perfectly.

I’m really not a computer person.  I couldn’t format anything if my life depended on it, and I have to get Kenny to download things that come in my e-mail.  Still, I can entertain myself pretty well with these three sites.

In other news, Mike got us all shakes this afternoon!  How cool is that? 

 

 

 

On my fridge is a picture of my friend Jenine surrounded by five or six little kids.  I’m not related to any of the children, but I claim them as “mine” anyway.

See, I teach a class of five year olds at church and, though they don’t know it, I’m learning a lot more from them than they ever will from me.

I started teaching them last year, when they were four.  When they moved up to the kindergarten class, I did too.  I can’t let go of my little guys.

They’re funny: (Amber, for example, can make up songs on the spot.  She did a song about snowflakes for me the other day and had a grin on her face the entire time.)

They’re smart: (Josh told me that two divided by eighteen is nine. They are teaching me to go by what someone means, not what they say.)

They’re compassionate: The aforementioned Jenine was my co teacher last year.  This year, she is expecting Baby Miles and having some bonding time with her bed.  When I told my class that Jenine and Miles were out of the hospital and getting better, they spontaneously broke into cheers and applause.

They are unforgettable: I’m already complaining to Jennifer that I have to let my kids go to the first grade class in a few months.

They’ve wormed their way into my heart.  When I grow up, I want to be just like them.

This one is for someone who probably will never see this post, but who is a big encouragement to me and deserves mentioning.

See, when I do solos, I tend to sing songs that my grandmother and her generation taught me.  I’ve done “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” twice (despite the fact that my Sunday School teacher doesn’t like it), “His Eye Is On the Sparrow” three times and even got brave and did “Day by Day” a cappella once.

As a result, when I go to the bathroom between Sunday School and church, I’ll invariably run into someone or other from the senior set who compliments me for a couple weeks afterward on my singing. I’m smart enough to realize that it’s my preferred genre, not my vocal ability that they are really exclaiming over, but the praise is nice all the same.

This is where Paul Steely comes in.  Paul is a deacon in our church who, like my bathroom buddies, is also a member of the senior set.  Paul is the one person who comes up to me -before- the service and tells me that he enjoys it when I do the “specials”.  Paul apparently is like me and reads the bulletin before church.

He did this again Sunday night.  He stuck out his hand to take mine and said he was looking forward to hearing me.  At that point, that made one of us.  See, about four months ago, I did “The Old Rugged Cross”.  Er…that is, I tried to do “The Old Rugged Cross”, but I messed up.  I know, I know, it’s hard to mess up something as foundational as a hymn I’ve known since utero, but I did.

As a result, I lost my confidence.  Even with the best Minister of Music since my dad supporting me, my confidence was shot.  As a result of -that-, my voice disappeared.  I couldn’t sing in the shower anymore, couldn’t sing to my preschoolers, nothing.  Nada, zip, zilch.  And don’t even get me started on choir practice.

Then, Sunday night, along came Paul.  As I was shoring up my courage to try and climb those stairs again, Paul took out his hand and smiled at me.  Not only that, he stood iby the door  in my line of sight so I could focus on him while I sang.  Okay, so that part was a fluke as he was standing in position to take the offering later, but it was nice and I took it as a gift.

So, there it is.  A mini tribute to a man I hardly know yet owe a debt of gratitude for a kindness he wasn’t even aware he was paying. 

Thank God for the Pauls.  Isn’t it nice to know someone is watching, waiting to hold out their hand? 

 

 

Until I started working in a print shop, I didn’t give much thought to what people -do-.  Everybody expects little kids to say they want to become a fireman or a ballerina when they grow up, but what five year old aspires to be the person who folds bulletins for Sunday morning services or punches holes in wedding invitations so that pretty pink ribbons can be tied at the top?

I’ve been working here a little over a year and to be honest, my role in this business has been mostly on the filing/envelope stuffing/making the occasional photocopy end.  Until the funeral programs.  Kenny (my husband) and Mike (his partner) were asked if they wanted to begin printing memorial bookmarks and programs for local funerals.  They agreed to do so and thus a mini education began for me.  I’ve mostly been on the grieving side of death, not the business side.  Recently, however, I’ve gained a whole new respect for mortuaries.  Life doesn’t end on schedule.  Kenny may get a call at nine o’ clock in the evening to run 200 programs for the next day.  This involves copying the programs, folding them, packaging them and delivering them to the funeral home.

Don’t get me wrong.  We are a pretty automated business around here.  Not every program, flier, or statement is folded by hand.  We have machines that copy for us, cut for us, fold for us, even a machine that makes those little dotted lines that indicate where a paper is to be torn off.  Still, there are days when we do fold things by hand, when we do lick all the envelopes ourselves, when we do use a pair of scissors rather than the big knife machine.

My world is pretty easy.  I have a computer genius husband who can help me make  booklets for my church kids.  I have three adorable nieces who help me get my little kid fix.  I have a boss who never fails to make me laugh.  I have a family who indulges my “I am a princess” fantasy and beautiful friends who are usually up for anything.

Every now and then though, it’s nice to just do one small thing, seal one small envelope after another. Every now and then, it’s nice to accomplish one small goal.

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