Yesterday I baked cookies. Its become a fun ritual this school year, spending Sunday afternoons in the kitchen baking goodies to pack in the lunches all week. Its a little time to myself, although a few weeks ago I got James in on the action by measuring out ingredients and letting him toss them into the mixer. He really liked it, and hopefully its something we do more often. But for now, its mostly for me. Its a nice time to be productive and let my mind wander. I have been planning which of my cookies I think are the best, which I want to share with my friends and the people I appreciate this Christmas. I do this every December, but sometimes I talk myself out of actually giving out cookies. I think, this is such a little thing, people won't care if I do it or not, they'll think I'm weird, over and over in my head until I talk myself out of doing something I wanted to do to be nice. A few years back, our pastor challenged us to find someone who serves us regularly, whether it be a waiter or barista, or some other job that gets done for us, and do something nice. Give the person a $5 gift card. Let them know that you appreciate what they have done for you the whole year. I sat in church trying to think if there was a service person who I saw often enough to do this for, and then I realized that the same young woman made me a burrito at Chipotle every other Wednesday. She was always friendly and recognized me, and I stopped off and bought a candy bar and wrapped it in ribbon and put it in the car. Then I agonized for about a week whether or not to give it to her. I seriously need to get out of my head sometimes, my husband had no idea what to do with the wreck of a wife I had left him with. So finally, the Wednesday before Christmas, I took a deep breath and brought the candy bar into Chipotle. But I didn't see her! As the other person made my burrito, I asked about the red-head who usually worked. "Who, Jaime? She's on her break right now." Actually...that's perfect. So I asked her to give Jaime the candy bar and wished her a Merry Christmas, and stumbled out into the cold, shaking from my nervousness. I did it! Phew. Now....would Jaime think I was nuts? Would she eat the candy bar or eye it suspiciously? Fast forward another two weeks, and I am back at Chipotle to pick up my burrito. There is Jaime, once again manning the salsa, and she looks up at me with a bright smile. "Did you bring me candy a few weeks ago?" she asked. "Oh, um, yeah." And she smiled a little bigger and said, "Thank you so much, that seriously made my day." Aww! I explained about my pastor and how I thought of her and how she is always nice to me and I just wanted to let her know I appreciated it. I think about that exchange sometimes, how very little it cost me to do something for her, and yet how much it brightened her face. How much does it take to send an encouraging text or email? How much effort is required to give a smile and make eye contact with the people around us? How much does it cost to make a batch of cookies and give them away? The answer is VERY LITTLE. And yet, how much does it mean to the recipient? Why do we hold ourselves in, as though we are risking anything to give love and kindness freely every day?
After James left for school today, I loaded a few plates with the cookies I made yesterday and drove to his school. I had been thinking for a few weeks that I should make a plate for his teachers, for all the wonderful work they've done this year. But as I baked yesterday, my idea grew. I thought of the faculty at Sandy Hook Elementary. I thought of the principal who gave her life issuing a warning to the rest of the school. I thought of the teachers hiding children so their young lives could continue. There is nothing I can do for those wonderful people, but I am just a few streets away from a school full of educators willing to do the exact same thing for my child and my neighbors' children. And so I wrote a note, thanking the office workers for all they do, and I dropped off my plates with the secretary. She asked, "You made these for us?" as though no one had ever brought her cookies before. I struggled to get words out without bursting into tears, but yes, I made these for you, for all you do, and to let you know that I appreciate you. Merry Christmas.
*I kind of hate that this blog post sounds like a "Look at me, look what I've done", but I only mean it to say these are easy things that we can all do regularly. In a court of generosity, there are many who surpass me in the ways they give, but in doing these little acts, I hope that a bigger sense of giving can grow in my heart and in my family. Let's make the world a better place, right now.
No comments:
Post a Comment