You Help Me, I Help You! (#BestOf!)

(the Best of) A Year of Being Kind, Friday, April 1, 2016

I had forgotten all about this situation. This vignette. Yes, two years ago at the beginning of April was a very busy time around my house. It felt good to remember this man. How helpful he had been. And, his kindness did not seem forced, at all! That was the best part. I do remember him, now. I wish him the best, wherever he may be. Good thoughts, gentle prayers, and my best wishes are winging his way.  

Roy Lichtenstein – pop art, 1961

 

A Year of Being Kind blog – Saturday, April 5, 2014

You Help Me, I Help You!

I’ve spoken here about getting prepared for some remodeling of our bathroom. A facelift, as I like to think of it. Today, I went out in search of more supplies. I need to have just about everything ready for the contractor when he arrives on Monday morning. So, there we were, my daughter and I. At the huge do-it-yourself big box store.

I guess I’m rather a novice at this sort of thing. I have rarely bought anything larger than a birdbath at one of these stores. Either that, or I’ve bought enough paint for a couple of rooms on several occasions. I felt like a kid in a candy store! Imagine, being able to choose the type of tile and the type of vanity I want. (I take pleasure in the small things in life. Or, I’m just easily pleased.)

The gentleman who helped us was great. He was kind, friendly, and especially helpful with suggestions for the vanity. (We have a modest condo, and small bathroom—therefore, small vanity.) He left us alone after a short time so my daughter and I could finish collecting the towel bars and the faucet for the sink, but assured us he would be around if we needed him.

As we made our way to the register in the front of the store, my daughter, the store employee and I chatted some more about the upcoming work. I checked out of the store and the clerk helped us to our car with the things we had bought. After he finished loading the rear of our vehicle, he handed me a small piece of paper with his name, store and employee number listed. He asked me—in a sort of shy way—whether I might be able to rate him and his customer service. I gave him a smile (my usual wide, friendly type of smile). “Sure! I’d be happy to do that.”

I don’t often follow through with the online form. For example, when a cashier at the grocery store hands me a form like that, I realize I have had minimal contact with him or her. I know they are told to give them to customers, but I feel very little reason to actually go on line. (I am not sure whether that makes me a “bad person” or not, but that’s the way I think right now.)

The duplicated form he handed me caused me to think about the time we spent together. I felt perfectly comfortable with him. As I said, he was cordial, helpful and friendly. The only thing that I really regretted was that I hadn’t asked his name.

I found out his name as I looked at the form. Reggie. Here’s a shout out to you, my friend! As far as I was concerned, you were absolutely great, Reggie. I hope you are the same way with every other customer you meet. God’s blessings be yours.

@chaplaineliza

(Suggestion: visit me at my blog: matterofprayer: A Year of Everyday Prayers– where I am doing a blogging journey through Eastertide. #PursuePEACE. Thanks!)

(also published at ayearofbeingkind.wordpress.com .   @chaplaineliza And read my sermons from Pastor, Preacher Pray-er – Thanks!)

Hush Up!

A Year of Being Kind blog – Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Hush Up!

Rhetorical question: am I doing an act of service if I keep my mouth closed?

Let me back up, and give some context to my question. After I dropped my son off at the high school in town, I went to the gym at the YMCA, as often is my practice. I really like using the track on the floor above the main gym most days. Today was no different. I quickly changed in the locker room and went upstairs, through the cardio and weight room through to the large gym. I had totally forgotten that this was Wednesday. (I usually don’t go to the gym on Wednesdays, for a variety of reasons. But I did today.)

As I warmed up and stretched, and started my workout on the track, I noticed some people coming in to the main gym. Oh, no! Today is Zumba day. Don’t get me wrong—I sometimes watch the people doing Zumba to the energetic, pounding music, and it’s wonderful cardio-vascular exercise. It’s the music that sometimes gets on my nerves. Today was particularly annoying. The first song that was played as I power-walked and jogged around the track had four chords. A four-chord progression, played over and over and over and . . . you get the idea. Repetitive, mind-numbing. It almost made me want to scream. It went on for seven minutes. (Yes, I watched the clock as I circled the track.)

I’m a classically-trained musician. Piano is my primary instrument, and composition was my emphasis for my undergraduate degree in music. I usually can “turn off my ears” and ignore or just not pay attention to poorly composed or performed music. But not today. As I went around the track for a good part of those seven minutes, I felt like giving someone a piece of my mind. Grrr! But I didn’t. It came to me (I suspect God brought this thought to me) that by complaining and kvetching to whatever unlucky YMCA staff member was on duty this morning, I really wouldn’t accomplish much of anything. The Y staff member would probably cluck his or her tongue, nod understandably and say, “There, there.” Or words to that effect. I know. I’ve worked in customer service, and that’s what I would have done in a similar situation.

Instead, I had another thought—also inspired by God, I think. This morning was an opportunity for me to practice forbearance and patience. Two fruits of the Spirit that are not as readily apparent in my character as they ought to be. I kept my mouth shut. I did not blow up or gripe to any Y staff or to the Zumba leader. People have a perfect right to listen to whatever kind of music that they like.

What about a positive act of service? Later, I saw another Y staff member wearing a really pretty sweater today. I smiled at her and gave her a sincere compliment on the sweater. She blossomed, telling me that her daughter had given her the sweater for Christmas, and she’d be sure to tell the daughter.

I think both were acts of service. I was proud of myself. And I think God was amused.

@chaplaineliza