A long time ago when I worked at Boeing Airplane Company
in Seattle and dreamt of living on an island like Trinidad,
a dear friend (who has since become a missionary in Chile)
said, “Whenever you feel really bad, give someone a gift.”
I took her advice. Whenever I agonised over my purpose in
life or felt sad about some stupid mistake I had made, I picked
myself up after work and went to the mall to buy a gift.
Once, I bought a delicate china teacup trimmed in gold for
a very nice secretary named Gloria who was near retirement
age. I had always admired her energy and her positive attitude.
Her smile was enough to support me on those days when I ached
from work and life.
I still remember how surprised she was when I handed her the
neatly wrapped box with a bow. She cried when she opened her
gift and saw the teacup.
“Why are you crying?” I asked.
“Because no one ever associated me with a china teacup,”
she said.
I was thinking about Gloria last week when I opened my handbag
and found a lovely letter from my daughter, Ijanaya. She knew
how bad I had been feeling. And so she gave the gift of a
letter.
Parents are people, too, I keep reminding myself when I get
so tired and angry I can’t control my feelings anymore.
Every day I realise how inadequate I am as a person, a parent
and a teacher. I could be more patient and more knowledgeable;
better organised and better prepared for the negative people
who bombard me.
I could always be better. I am painfully aware of that. If
there’s one thing I know in this world it is how inadequate
I am. There are enough people around to remind us of our shortcomings.
And I also know this: a simple, kind act can turn someone’s
worst day into a treasure. I realise that because any problem
I have vanishes when Naima, the drama teacher, bounces into
my room with her dramatic self and tells me a story which
she punctuates with her rumbling laugh, or when Wilhelmina,
the Spanish teacher, shares a joke to make us both laugh until
we cry.
Gwen and Jason, the maths teachers, have a special way of
making me feel creative even though they know I am mathematically
challenged, and Jackie reminds me how much even a 52-year-old
needs a mother.
Monsieur Johnson, the French teacher, only has to say “bonjour”
in that lilting French accent to cheer me up, and Nicha, the
librarian, knows how to make my day by announcing the arrival
of a new book that she knows I would enjoy.
Last week Charmaine, the head of social studies—who also
happens to be my boss since I teach three social studies classes—called
me on the phone and said, “You’re doing some real
nice work.” That, too, made my day.
On the worst days I can turn around and see my principal,
John, and our guidance counsellor, Louis, and know that I
can say whatever I feel—and even have a good cry too.
And of course there are always the children who inspire me
to keep going.
I know Americans have a penchant for confession, but I like
to think that it is more than that quirky American behaviour
which compels me to share these feelings with you.
Sometimes I feel I should remind you that I don’t have
all the answers for life or even education. I have never pretended
to have all the answers.
My column is not an excuse to pontificate. You and I are walking
down the same path; trying to figure out many of the same
problems. We just have to try our best. We have to find new
avenues to explore; new directions to carry our lives so that
we can be better people and better parents. We have to keep
experimenting together. We have to keep giving gifts and receiving
them, too ,when they come from the heart.
The world is filled with cruel people who are ready to add
to our burdens. Thankfully, there are those who reach out
to help us.
Last week, Danielle, a beautiful artist who happens to be
my colleague, gave me a painting of a turtle trekking through
a school of happy fish. She plucked it off the wall of Rainy
Days and gave it to me when she could have sold it.
On the back of the frame she wrote, “Thank you for your
words.” On that same day my sister-in-law, Kim, sent
me a beautiful card with a warm, yellow tree under a bright
yellow sun. And out of the blue my mother called to offer
words of wisdom and words of support.
Gifts are important—real, tangible gifts and symbolic
ones that offer hope and kindness. Kind acts are what keep
us going at work and at home. We all know how much kindness
nourishes us.
I know that no one is perfect and all of us need support.
We need to give and we need to appreciate what is given to
us. We’re all doing the best we can. All we can hope
is that people forgive us for anything we do wrong—intentionally
or unintentionally. It is important that we are judged by
our hearts—not our deeds. That way there is always room
for forgiveness and there is always room to grow and become
a better person.
On any given day a cup of kindness goes a long way towards
soothing the aching soul. Remember that the next time you
are in the depths of despair. Remember that the next time
you see someone who needs a bone china teacup.
