no regrets
The particular moment I want to share today happened when I was about 8 years old. Earlier that year, I met my mom’s best friends father, Mr. Patten. He was a kind, elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. He was particularly kind to me, especially when he learned how much I liked clowns.

We chatted for awhile, and then he went upstairs brought down something his wife had made years ago. It was love at first sight.

It was a handmade clown. The body, arms and legs were small, hand-sewn circles of fabric from scraps of old quilts strung together (think candy necklaces), with small jingle bells at the ends of each arm and leg.  The face, white, had the classic red markings of a pierrot clown, and a smile on his face that invited secrets to be shared.

Mr. Patten told me that his wife had made it with love, and he wanted me to have it. I instantly named him Clown Jingles. Mr. Patten and I became fast friends.

Back home, I wanted to find a way to let him know how Clown Jingles was doing. I wrote him a letter. He wrote back. His letters were written in print with big letters and on subjects that were interesting to my 8-year-old self. We exchanged letters over the next few months. And then, as happens when you’re eight, I got distracted by other things. School, friends, Strawberry Shortcake… I stopped writing to Mr. Patten.

But I didn’t stop thinking about him. I missed our correspondence and friendship. I hugged Clown Jingles close every night. Time just slipped away. I’d write to him soon.

And then one day at school I decided that “today was the day.” I resolved to go home and write Mr. Patten a letter. Lots had been happening and I had things to tell him. I skipped into the house and announced to my mom that I was going to go in my room and do that very thing. Her entire body language shifted and in that instant, I knew something was wrong. I knew I’d missed him.

Mr. Patten had passed away that morning.

I realized in that moment that time doesn’t stop for us. Things happen that we don’t always expect or want.

I resolved that day to not let time get away from me again; to do the things I’d planned on doing without procrastinating or missing them. I didn’t ever want to experience that feeling of regret again.

As with most resolutions, this one isn’t easy. I haven’t nailed down the secret to taking advantage of each and every moment. And I still procrastinate and let time slip by every now and again. But the message is constantly in my mind and in my heart. My intention toward the resolution stays strong, and I’d like to think that I’m more successful than not, in letting my loved ones know how much I love them and how much they mean to me.

It was a tough lesson for an 8-year-old, but one I cherish and appreciate.

It took me a few days of thinking about this to post, but I finally wrote. It was such a cool exercise for me, that I wanted to share my thoughts here, as well as provide a link to the site for anyone else to contribute and participate in the project.

I appreciated the reminder to notice and thank those that help out and offer kindness and service to others, and wanted to pass it along. So here is my original post with a few minor adjustments for this blog: 

I love this idea and when I first read about it, I opened the comments page, ready to write. I set my hands on the keys and nothing. Nothing came to me. I stared blankly at the page in confusion. I felt so grateful for so many things in this world and my life… and I couldn’t come up with even *one* example of an act of kindness and service to share?

I left the page open on my computer as a reminder, and have spent the past couple of days thinking about and mulling over what service means to me and how I define it, trying to come up with examples and a story.

So, after a few days of pondering and a beautiful and foggy morning run, here’s what I’ve come up with:

For me, service and serving others is woven throughout my day. It comes in many different names and appears in many different forms. From compassion, acknowledgement, kindness and thoughtfulness, to going beyond expectations and reaching out with consciousness and deliberateness. 

I see it when someone lets me into a crowded lane on the highway. I know it when I look into the eyes of a homeless man, smile and say, “hi,” acknowledging his existence as a member of the human race, even if I cannot give him a dollar. 

I feel it within the community I live. When I, or a friend takes a risk and is admired and encouraged for that leap of faith… even if we fail (actually, especially when we fail). The knowledge that others believe in us and find inspiration in our perseverance and determination is a service to us and everyone. It creates an environment where it’s safe to grow and expand. This happens when someone starts a new company or business; begins a blog; starts writing a book; goes back to school; or takes up a new sport. The silent support and encouragement is a beautiful feeling.

Service happens when someone cares enough to give us feedback or criticism, or points out when we’ve been tactless. It happens when we take a moment of our time to post a comment to a blog to help someone out with a project. And it happens when we offer up that prime parking spot in the front to someone who is rude and in a hurry.

I know it when I stop running during a race to pick up someone else’s trash that had fallen. I know it when I remember someone’s name and it makes them feel important and seen-they know they are part of something. I know it when I used to talk with my grandmother before she passed and heard the same stories and had the same conversations over and over, yet responded with patience and love and interest. 

I feel it when I’m tired from a day of shopping and just want to be home and a stranger smiles at me and I’m reminded that there are reasons to smile. I feel it when a friend buys a coffee or breakfast for me… just because.

And when, a few weeks ago, my fiance took hours out of an already busy day to set up a re-fueling station for me on a long run, and then sat for another hour that same day, waiting to run with me for an hour, simply because he loves me and supports my goal, took my breath away and overwhelmed me with gratitude.

There are large and small gestures of service every day in our lives. Some are easy to see and acknowledge… others are more subtle. We don’t always know when a smile, or a kind word makes a difference in someone’s life.

I love reading all the stories here and look forward to more. Thank you for encouraging us to think about and acknowledge the power of simple kindnesses. 

What do you think? What does service mean to you? How have you been effected? Feel free to comment here, or click on the links above and add your story.