- I wonder some days if I should pay Jason for letting me share his words to you on my blog. Since I am not selling anything I guess I probably won't do that. But I am very grateful for the way he writes and for the way, he makes me want to go out and make a difference in the world after reading his weekly articles or his latest book. I have used his articles on more than one occassion. Why? Well, because my blog is a Motivataional Blog. I search and pray for things to find on the news, the internet, in my own life and in stories from others ....to motivate you and encourage you. If for some reason you need an extra boost, then I would suggest reading his weekly articles or get your hands on one of his books, you can find them here:
- I loved the lesson learned from his article today, about letting people know they matter! I really do try to do this, and do it because I truly believe that everyone does matter. I have made some of the dearest friends in an airport, at the store, in a class or at a basketball game. Of course I didn't met them because I exchanged sugary treats with them, like the guy in this story. But you know how I feel about sugar! That is why Jason's articles are so much better than mine! Who wants to hear a story about the friendly lady who was always trying to share her snap peas with someone? See it just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it? Oh well, I hope you enjoy the article and have a good night dear friends, ( oh by the way, I don't know why I can't get rid of those bullets on the left here... and I am too tired to try any longer to get rid of them, sorry :)
I’ve been thinking about chocolate-covered cherries lately. The tiny treats have symbolized my childhood Christmas mornings, and my mother always had several boxes scattered out on the counter when we came downstairs. We never had to ask if we could have one.
And, obviously, we never had just one.
But why are they on my mind as we march toward March? What has me thinking of the cherished chocolate treats with the holidays fading in the rear-view mirror?
I have a good friend who loves the 7-Eleven store and all of its convenience-store cousins. Is it an unhealthy affection? I can’t say. But it wouldn’t surprise me to learn he has a spare room in his home lined with maps of every Circle K, Handi-Hut, mini mart and snack shack within a day’s drive.
When he walks in for a cold drink or quick snack, they don’t just call him by name. They ask about his kids and how his daughter did on last Friday’s spelling test.
I’ve noticed that my friend shares my affection for chocolate-covered cherries. Each time he visits a store that carries them, or any of its individually wrapped siblings — York Peppermint Patty singles, caramels, tiny Reese's Peanut Butter Cups — he always buys one or two extras.
One of the extras always goes to me and I appreciate the kindness. But the real generosity happens at checkout.
“How are you today?” he asks the clerk.
Their replies are often predictable. “Eh. OK, I guess. Just another day.”
“That’s it?” he asks. “Come on, we can do better than that.”
They don’t usually reply with words, but their eyes say plenty.
“Here, I promise this will turn your day around.” He slides the candy he’s just bought right back across the counter.
“Excuse me?” Even the clerks he knows well act surprised each time he treats them.
“Trust me,” he says, “nothing turns your day around like a chocolate-covered fill-in-the-blank.”
They always reach for it and slide it the rest of the way toward the edge of the counter. As it lands in their outstretched palm, a smile always lands on their face.
“Thank you,” they say, often more than once. “Thanks very much. You didn’t have to.”
My pal winks, pops his own treat in his mouth and walks out.
I eat my freebie, too, and the conversation turns to sports, politics, work and all the other things guys talk about to feel relevant to one another.
Sometimes my friend repeats the same scene on the same day at another location. I’ve been present for many of these chocolate-covered cherry miracles. But how many have I missed?
I wonder how much money my friend has spent serving others in this small way. At 25 cents each, it can’t be much. I wonder if he’s bought 500 of these tasty gifts. More? A thousand?
But it’s not the money, is it? Like all other acts of service, it’s the message. For a few seconds every time he walks into a gas station or convenience store, he sends the unmistakable message to those who wait on him that they are not alone.
He speaks with action and with his gift of time. He says to them, “I see you. You’re not alone. You’re important.”
He practically shouts: “You matter!”
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have someone step into your life, especially on the days you wish would end early, and look you in the eyes with that powerful message?
“You matter!”
My friend isn’t naïve and neither am I. We know that a 25-cent treat doesn’t solve life’s serious problems. It doesn’t help someone find a new job, cure family illness or return the prodigal son. But it just might make all those things seem more possible.
When life gets tough, when days seem bigger than our spirit, having someone look us in the eye and remind us we’re not alone could be the greatest gift of all.
I’m grateful that after so many visits to our favorite watering holes, I’m finally paying attention to my friend’s chocolate miracles. And I can’t wait to start performing my own.
In fact, I think I'll hit 7-Eleven on the way home tonight.
I hope they have chocolate-covered cherries.
"Today, give a stranger one of your smiles. It might be the only sunshine he sees all day." ~Quoted in P.S. I Love You, compiled by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
And, obviously, we never had just one.
But why are they on my mind as we march toward March? What has me thinking of the cherished chocolate treats with the holidays fading in the rear-view mirror?
I have a good friend who loves the 7-Eleven store and all of its convenience-store cousins. Is it an unhealthy affection? I can’t say. But it wouldn’t surprise me to learn he has a spare room in his home lined with maps of every Circle K, Handi-Hut, mini mart and snack shack within a day’s drive.
When he walks in for a cold drink or quick snack, they don’t just call him by name. They ask about his kids and how his daughter did on last Friday’s spelling test.
I’ve noticed that my friend shares my affection for chocolate-covered cherries. Each time he visits a store that carries them, or any of its individually wrapped siblings — York Peppermint Patty singles, caramels, tiny Reese's Peanut Butter Cups — he always buys one or two extras.
One of the extras always goes to me and I appreciate the kindness. But the real generosity happens at checkout.
“How are you today?” he asks the clerk.
Their replies are often predictable. “Eh. OK, I guess. Just another day.”
“That’s it?” he asks. “Come on, we can do better than that.”
They don’t usually reply with words, but their eyes say plenty.
“Here, I promise this will turn your day around.” He slides the candy he’s just bought right back across the counter.
“Excuse me?” Even the clerks he knows well act surprised each time he treats them.
“Trust me,” he says, “nothing turns your day around like a chocolate-covered fill-in-the-blank.”
They always reach for it and slide it the rest of the way toward the edge of the counter. As it lands in their outstretched palm, a smile always lands on their face.
“Thank you,” they say, often more than once. “Thanks very much. You didn’t have to.”
My pal winks, pops his own treat in his mouth and walks out.
I eat my freebie, too, and the conversation turns to sports, politics, work and all the other things guys talk about to feel relevant to one another.
Sometimes my friend repeats the same scene on the same day at another location. I’ve been present for many of these chocolate-covered cherry miracles. But how many have I missed?
I wonder how much money my friend has spent serving others in this small way. At 25 cents each, it can’t be much. I wonder if he’s bought 500 of these tasty gifts. More? A thousand?
But it’s not the money, is it? Like all other acts of service, it’s the message. For a few seconds every time he walks into a gas station or convenience store, he sends the unmistakable message to those who wait on him that they are not alone.
He speaks with action and with his gift of time. He says to them, “I see you. You’re not alone. You’re important.”
He practically shouts: “You matter!”
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have someone step into your life, especially on the days you wish would end early, and look you in the eyes with that powerful message?
“You matter!”
My friend isn’t naïve and neither am I. We know that a 25-cent treat doesn’t solve life’s serious problems. It doesn’t help someone find a new job, cure family illness or return the prodigal son. But it just might make all those things seem more possible.
When life gets tough, when days seem bigger than our spirit, having someone look us in the eye and remind us we’re not alone could be the greatest gift of all.
I’m grateful that after so many visits to our favorite watering holes, I’m finally paying attention to my friend’s chocolate miracles. And I can’t wait to start performing my own.
In fact, I think I'll hit 7-Eleven on the way home tonight.
I hope they have chocolate-covered cherries.
"Today, give a stranger one of your smiles. It might be the only sunshine he sees all day." ~Quoted in P.S. I Love You, compiled by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
"Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see." ~Mark Twain
"Wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for a kindness." ~Seneca
"Wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for a kindness." ~Seneca
1 comment:
Great story! Every act of kindness, large or small sends that same message that "you matter". So true...
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