I'll Be Back for More!

Recently, I have spent a lot of time asking myself: what am I doing with my life to make our world a better place? Am I doing as much as I can during these difficult economic times to share with others, to make a positive difference – every day? Do the things I spend my time doing really matter? What more can I do?

Many things have run through my mind as possibilities. Some of them I have done; others I am still contemplating. I listen to stories of restaurant owners who are offering food for “whatever someone can pay” or bartering a meal in exchange for some work. I hear of the man who donated skates to neighborhood children and then took them skating, only to discover that first he had to teach some of them to skate.

I am speechless hearing of the five year old girl in Miramar Beach who jumped into a swimming pool to rescue a baby, saving the baby from drowning. I watched the news coverage of D-Day with tears in my eyes thinking of the young men who died on those beaches…thinking of my own Father who suffered horribly as his unit fought to take and hold Italy.

I grew up being awakened by his cries from the nightmares, and many nights watched him sit on our front porch in the darkness waiting for dawn, because going back to sleep was too painful for him, and he did not want to frighten his children again with the horror of his dreams. And, then, after being awake much of the night, he would get dressed and go out to work all day and he never complained. He sacrificed for our country and he sacrificed for his family…every day.

Seen against that backdrop, my efforts have seemed so miniscule and my life, even with some difficult times, relatively easy. And yet...

Today I spent hours working with young people who are homeless. For various reasons they have no parents who can care for them; and they have no place to live unless someone or some organization, provides a temporary home for them. They have been forced to depend upon “the kindness of strangers” for the most basic of needs.

In spite of their circumstances they are determined to pursue their education—they all graduated high school this spring, against some of the most incredible odds. They are smart kids—book smart and street smart. They have survived things I could never imagine surviving and they carry in their eyes memories that I have trouble even thinking about. The memories are painful, but they share them with a matter-of-factness that belies their years. I am awed by their example.

No, these are not children from some war-torn land; they were born and grew up here, in Northwest Florida. They are our children. They, too, live in Paradise…but their Paradise is far different one from the one I and most of my family, friends, and neighbors enjoy.

As I stood up to introduce myself, I, who have given hundreds of speeches and taught thousands of classes and seminars to some of the most influential people, admit to feeling a bit uncertain.

Would anything I shared with them have any meaning? How could I help them to feel more comfortable? How could I feel more comfortable? What connection could I make with them? I was unsure of how to begin, and I had no idea where the presentation was going, but as I looked into their faces, I thought: surely there is a reason I am here, this moment. There must be something I am supposed to give. And so I began. We started with an exercise I had designed to be fun and informative…something to help us all get to know one another.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged in…and soon, we were all laughing and sharing and while a few needed some prodding, most of them were eager to contribute to the conversation…eager to talk about themselves, and to know about one another. Soon, I found myself wishing I had more time…as they talked I thought of more and more ideas that we could share; more questions we could contemplate…more connections we could make, more ways I could help make their college experience easier.

At the end, they lingered, wanting to continue the conversations. Their enthusiasm was infectious…I felt good. The workshop had gone well. The students had taken their cues from me—but, they had made the time theirs.

Later today, they each came back to me and said something about the morning session. Nothing profound, nothing especially remarkable…but, they made an effort to come back to my desk, to refer to something that had happened. They thanked me for my time and laughingly said, in different words, but with the same message: I’ll be back for more!

As I was leaving the campus one of the women who had organized the program came up to me. With a big smile on her face, she thanked me for my efforts with the students. And, I said, but I did not do that much—it was only a few hours, and they did most of the work. With a very serious voice and a solemn face, she said: “it may have been only a few hours for you—but for them, it was the most individual attention they have received in a very long time”.

Her words stopped me in my tracks.

Then, I realized that while my contributions may pale in comparison to those who fight our wars; have the means to share their wealth with many; or the courage to risk their lives without thought, to save another; my gift is something only I can give. Each of us has something special to share and the Universe has a way of putting us in exactly the right place to do whatever we are meant to do.

I learned so much from the kids today—and I’ll be back for more!