Kind Words

     Sometimes a kind word can turn a person's day around.  Sometimes it can turn their life around.  Sometimes you might not see it, but a kind word can keep hope alive.  I was a daddy's girl.  My dad was my hero and the day he left was devastating.  It was also the beginning of a downward spiral in my life.  When I look back at the hurts and pain I went through I can't help but remember the people who kept my hope alive.
     When Dad was at home we ate ketchup on our mashed potatoes, but we weren't allowed to do this outside of the home, because people found it...well, gross.  After dad moved out my mom took us to some friends house one evening for dinner.  I was angry at the world and pouting at the table, when Hank asked me what was wrong.  I grumbled, "Nothing", as I stared at my mashed potatoes knowing I was not going to enjoy them without ketchup.  Hank watched me for several minutes before he got up from the table.  "I know what's wrong."  He came back to the table and placed a bottle of ketchup in front of me, "In this house, we eat ketchup on our mashed potatoes."  He may have just been trying to cheer up a broken kid, but what I heard was, "You are okay with me."
     A few years later the father of a friend of mine always took the time to ask me how I was doing.  One day at the fair when I was acting tough and untouched by life's problems, Garrett asked me if I had been on the "Turbo".  The "Turbo" was the biggest scariest ride I had ever seen.  I told him I had not.
     "Me neither.  Do you want to go with me?"
     I could not show my fear.  "Sure."  I acted as though I was not intimidated by this monstrous machine, but inside I was dying with fear.  He bought our tickets as I fought to act normal.  They helped us onto the ride and I thought I was going to be sick.  I could hardly breathe.  I was begging God to get me through it without throwing up.  It turned out the ride wasn't scary at all and we both laughed. 
    As we put our feet on the ground and started walking away, Garrett said, "That was fun and here I was scared to death."
     I can still see him smiling at me when I confessed, "Me too."  His expression revealed, he already knew that.  That silly little ride with Garrett meant the world to me.
     I was fourteen when I walked to the neighbors to ask Jake for a job on his berry farm.  We  had lived by his family for ten years.  When I asked him, he looked confused.  He told me how many days were in the quarter that I had him as my teacher in Washington State History.  Then he said, "You were only there 13 of those days and only on time once.  Now you want me to give you a job?"
     I was embarrassed that he had kept track, "Sorry."  I turned to walk home.
     "Wait a minute.  Some people just don't like school.  I'm going to give you a chance."  Not only did I work for Jake that summer, but he called and asked me to work for him the next year.  He gave me a chance and I gave him my best.
     I wonder if Jake, Hank or Garrett have any idea how they affected me.  Without using the words all three of these people told me I was okay.  I try to remember them when an unhappy kid needs a little hope.  I heard once the most difficult people to love need it the most.