Thumbing through a catalog recently triggered a memory. With this particular retailer, it happens often as it sells everything from my childhood and beyond. From Christmas candy to shampoo, it’s nostalgic recalling those soft butter mints my grandmother had in a crystal dish during the holidays, and products I used when washing my hair in the late 1970s.
But the particular item I’m referring to now brings a wave of feelings even deeper. It’s what simple kindness does and how it stays with you the rest of your life.
I’ve shared here how I have always loved hats, and can recall having (and wanting) them from childhood. When looking through some old photos recently, proof of it was in some of the images. Bucket hats resting on the corner post of my bed when I was younger than seven, berets of various colors and content (worn or casually tossed onto a chair), winter hats, the funkier the better, even though southern winters didn’t quite provide the need for them. I didn’t care and wore them until adolescence dictated in my brain that I do what others were doing. And others weren’t wearing those hats. So for awhile, the hats went into the closet.
However, that catalog. I never thought I’d see a photograph of a hat for sale that was so similar to something I wore to school when I was in the first grade. A white faux fur. I recall loving it so much, I’m certain I wore it every day to school. So at the end of the school day prior to Christmas break, I remember running out of school with my little friends, excited to have two weeks of “freedom”, and of course, Santa was coming. Just as I reached the front sidewalk, I panicked. My hat! I forgot to grab it with my coat. So I ran back to the door of my classroom but it was already locked. I was unable to get back into the school. My precious hat was still in my desk drawer, and I wouldn’t have it for two weeks. I’m certain the devastation of a little six year old witnessed by the few left, because everyone had pretty much scattered to the wind by that point, was seen as hysteria. But there I was standing on the sidewalk, a tiny little girl who was sobbing…crying as if the world was ending.
Then the kindness of an older student named Steve happened. It has stayed with me ever since. He walked up to me and asked what was wrong. Calmed and soothed me, took my hand and walked back to the school with me and he tried getting inside, too, simply to retrieve my hat. When he had no more success than I did, his gentle explanation that it would be alright made it less upsetting; he showed empathy and care. This from a child himself who was probably no older than fifth or sixth grade. He was one of the ‘big kids’ and he showed care as if he were an adult.
While I had only one more year at that school (we moved to another district), and I never saw Steve again, all of it has stayed with me. Decades later, I recall the caring young boy who showed basic kindness. I can even somewhat recall him visually. I certainly remember his name. Isn’t kindness something? While harsh words and cruelty scar a person, creating limiting emotional distress, kindness and compassion lift you up and remain, as well, and for the better. It builds. Basic kindness and decency cost nothing.
I’ve shared a photo of that hat, with the identity of the model’s face hidden. I must add that I’m not a fur wearing person and the faux fur was as close as I’ll ever get to wearing it; and I’m also grateful to have outgrown the silliness of adolescence and have happily embraced wearing hats once again for a long while now.
Some other photos shared here: time with my lovely granddaughter, volunteering for ‘Wreaths Across America’, and my annual infusion to alleviate osteoporosis (ladies, know your bone health history).
Finally, my blog will be thirteen next month. It’s hard to believe I’ve kept it up so long; it’s really a miracle.
Merry Christmas. Peace and light to all. Be kind. Always.
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