Saying It

"You are not only responsible for what you say, but also for what you do not say." Martin Luther

I'm not an overly chatty person. I am certainly less talkative than the average woman. I love quiet, and the adage "Silence is golden" resonates with me. I can go for hours without talking, especially if I am involved in a hobby or project. I rarely say something that I later regret. I can keep a confidence and never spill the beans. I both understand and live the idea that I am responsible for the words that come out of my mouth.

I am also responsible for my silences. Silence itself has its own energy. While I may be holding back because I don't want to be negative or hurtful, I'm really not fooling anyone. By my facial expressions, my body language, my energy, I am still communicating, and quite loudly. I think I need to just own it, to just say it. It is sometimes kinder and more honest to do that. I should have enough confidence in my ability to communicate to know that I can say something negative in a kind, tactful way.

Every day I encounter people who could use a word of encouragement or kindness from me, and I am responsible for all of those words I leave unsaid, too.

Susan

A Cup of Cheer

It's the time of year for hot apple cider, spicy sweet tea and peppermint mocha coffee. And hot chocolate. With whipped cream on top, of course. As far back as I can remember, another important part of Christmas has been the red kettles and bell ringers standing on street corners and in front of markets. Yesterday, we had some unusual weather where I live. It was gray and cold and raining very hard. Shoppers were rushing in and out of the stores, trying to avoid the weather. He was standing under an awning, but still it was cold and damp and the rain was coming down sort of sideways so he was getting a little wet. He was ringing the bell and smiling and saying, "Merry Christmas," even when no one put money in the kettle. Even when no one "Merry Christmased" him back.

My first thought was that I should get him a hot drink. I didn't act on it instantly, because I was cold and tired and eager to hop in Pink and get home. But soon I obeyed my initial impulse and walked over to the nearby coffee shop. I bought him a cup of hot chocolate. Everyone likes hot chocolate, right? With whipped cream on top, of course. I carried the cup to him and held it out. "Here's some hot chocolate. To keep you warm," I said. I didn't tell him there was whipped cream on it. I let that be a surprise. He looked at me for a few seconds, then took the cup and said, "Wow. Thank you." I said, "Merry Christmas" and hurried on my way.

I need to tell you this story, but not to toot my own horn. It was such a small thing for me to do. It cost me ten minutes out of my day and two dollars out of my pocket. I need to tell you this story, because of the expression on his face. He was shocked. The look on his face told me that strangers don't offer him cups of hot chocolate on a regular basis.

If such a small gesture causes such a reaction, then I need to be obeying my initial impulses of kindness much more often. And not just at Christmas. Kindness should not happen so rarely that it engenders such shock and awe.

Now I have a question for you. Who is it today that could use a cup of cheer from you?

Susan

Tzdaka

"That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love." William Wordsworth

I had parked my car in a lot with parking meters. After I got out of my car and put coins in the meter, I noticed an older woman walking around the lot. She would look at a meter, and either walk on to the next one, or put money in it. I figured out that she was putting money in the meters that were close to expiring. What a cool thing to do! Imagine being stressed that you were running late and the meter had run out, dreading the ticket on your windshield. Then you get to your car and discover that you still have time on the meter. Wouldn't that just make your day?

In the Jewish faith, the highest form of giving is tzdaka, anonymous charity to unknown recipients. When was the last time you gave something to someone you didn't know, expecting nothing in return?

Susan