Blog Bits

Tuesday night I looked down the stairs into the basement, and there was water all around my hot water heater. I knew that meant it was time for a new one, so the next day I went over to the plumber’s.

“How can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked.

“I want two things,” I said. “I want sympathy. And I want an appointment for someone to come and look at my water heater.”

He smiled. “I can give you so much sympathy you won’t be able to haul it all out of the store,” he said. Then he turned to his assistant, who looked through the scheduling book.

“We could probably get someone there tomorrow morning,” the assistant said.

“That would be great,” I said.

“Now,” he asked, “do you have a gas water heater or electric?”

There was a pause. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said.

As I walked out the door, he called, “Don’t forget your sympathy!” So I pretended I was Santa hauling out a big bag.

Got home and the basement was bone dry. We’d had some heavy rain, and I had forgotten that my basement always floods when it rains hard. My water heater didn’t need to be replaced, after all.

I went back to the plumber. “Well, it’s a gas heater,” I said. “And it’s fine. The basement was flooded from the rain.”

He looked me in the eye and said, “I want my sympathy back.”

I did a thing today.

School buses go by my house, and I’ve been wondering if I could put some kind of sign in my yard that might interest kids. My first choice was a list of banned books. Nothing gets a kid to read like saying, “Someone thinks you shouldn’t read this. They think you can’t handle it.”

And then I read about a town that was dealing with teens whose mental health issues were leading to tragic outcomes. A woman there wanted to offer encouragement to those who were struggling, and her yard signs were born.

I ordered some. They arrived today, and I put the first one out.

A few weeks from now I’ll rotate this one out and replace it – there are 10 in the set. My friends at church have volunteered to take the “used” signs and give them some time in their yards. We’ll pass them around until the ground freezes.

I remember times when a random comment was unexpectedly helpful, and I hope this will work the same for someone else. It’s not as good as therapy, but on a tough day, maybe it’ll help someone get through.

I was sipping an iced tea at the coffee shop and researching online when she walked up. “Is your name Beard?” she asked. She looked familiar. After 37 years in the classroom, I’ve given up hope of remembering most names, but something in her eyes was familiar.

“Yes.”

She introduced herself, a former student who had graduated 20 years ago. We caught up briefly, and she said, “I wanted to tell you about something you said to me once.”

I tried not to tense visibly – this could be good or not. “I had turned in my homework,” she said, “and you gave it back and said it wasn’t good enough. I was thinking, ‘I did my homework, what do you want?’ But you went on and said, ‘You can do better than this. You have a lot of potential.’ I’ve never forgotten that.”

She smiled and repeated it. “You said I had a lot of potential. I’ve never forgotten that.”

I said, “Thank you” and added a few words that I hoped were appropriate.

She smiled again and left, and I sat for a few moments in awe of that moment of kindness.

This is what we’re meant to do, isn’t it? To remind each other that through all the imperfections, every now and then a moment shines through. Hold on them. Tell the happy story. Remind each other of the good things we do. (We don’t need reminders of the others. We do that on our own.)

I’m smiling now, just remembering. Wherever you are today, Heather, thank you.