Sharing a Bit of Sunshine

When Dave was in the fifth grade his class was supposed to sing in the big schoolwide Christmas program that Christmas season and they were practicing their songs. After one run through, the teacher turned to Dave and said: “Dave, just mouth the words.”

That was no message of encouragement. It was a hand grenade of negativity.

To Dave the translation of these words echoed in his ears for years: “You don’t have a good enough voice.” While these words didn’t totally squelch his singing, they lay there not quite dormant in the back of his mind well into adulthood. From time to time, a variant of those words would sneak out of his mouth. At first, I had no idea where such ridiculous thoughts originated.

Finaly, he told me about Mr. Geedy, the fifth-grade teacher, and the Christmas Program rehearsal. I was shocked. If you have heard him sing, you know that Dave has a beautiful, deep, resonant voice.

This made me think of other anecdotes of children who did not become painters or artists or writers because of some thoughtless remark that pierced them like an arrow thrown by a teacher or parent or other person important in their young lives. I am so grateful that, while Dave carried the scar, he overcame the wound to be part of a trio in college that toured the Eastern Seaboard, sing with Dewey Ehling’s chorus, have starring roles as Captain von Trapp in Sound of Music and not just have solo bits but strong support in the Peninsula Men’s Gospel Singers. Yes, and I get to listen to private concerts when he rehearses at home.

For some reason, this memory popped up the other day. I don’t remember all the circumstance (I’m old, remember) but I encountered a woman in her 20’s or so who said something clever and insightful. It was, as I recall, an observation she made while in a crowd. As I walked by, I said something like “That was right on” or “Very clever” or something of that ilk.

As an aside, you may know that I am like that. I have no problem spontaneously saying something to someone I don’t even know in public.

But my remark caught the woman a bit by surprise. She turned toward me with a look of such delight on her face. She appeared to be very pleased that someone caught her doing/saying something of interest. I could tell this had brightened her day and, by extension, mine as well.

I’ve given this a lot of thought. At first the word I attached to the action was “kibbitz”--tossing a random positive comment toward someone from outside their circle of conversation. Not a grenade but a bouquet. And the word I have fixed on is “encouragement.” I know in my soul how it feels to be on the receiving end of that encouraging random comment. It can make my day. It can suddenly put those negative encounters in perspective. “I’m not a total failure. I said/did this good thing.”

I can pick one of the flowers out of that bouquet of encouragement and give it to someone who doesn’t expect it. Brighten their day with it.

See, here’s the sneaky fun part. It not only brightens that person’s day but fills me with such a sense of goodwill and joy. Days are brightened for two people.

The mistake would be if I walked away feeling smug. But, no. You see, I only have that moment to observe the smile on their face. I don’t get to hear them tell anyone else about it—if they even remember it an hour from now. The person isn’t always a stranger. I just as likely to toss a compliment to someone I know.

There’s no bronze plaque with my name on it. There’s no crowd of fans waiting to hear the most recent stories of how I used my bouquet of encouragement on any given day.

On the other hand…the other day I was on the receiving end of a very warm hug. It caught me by surprise because I didn’t see him coming. I had tossed this young man a flower of encouragement about a week earlier when he sang a solo at a concert. So now he returned it with a hug. Ya gotta love that!

Now that I have given this some thought, I find myself alert for ways to catch someone doing/saying something right and brighten their day with an encouraging word. I don’t seek them out like a stalker. That would be weird. But I try to use the opportunity to lighten someone’s load or brighten their day if I happen to hear or see something special.

And, by the way, I think I figured out why Mr. Geedy thoughtlessly told Dave to mouth the words. You see, Dave has a loud voice. As an adult, he knows how to modulate it but as a child I’ll just bet he drowned out some of the others. And that explanation is what Dave’s mother would call “putting the best construction on everything.” God bless her.