A few weeks ago, I helped my daughter paint her dining room. As we were preparing the room, taping the windows and trim, she was teasing me about my painting abilities. It’s a running joke in my family. You can tell if I helped paint a room because I always seem to leave a mark on the ceiling somewhere.
I started thinking about this in other areas of my life. Do I leave a mark in life where people will notice? Am I making an impact? When I die, will people look around at what I’ve done and smile? Will they say, “Missy’s been here”? Will it be said with a smile or a frown?
I want to leave this world knowing that the marks I am leaving have improved the lives of those around me. That’s one of the reasons I became a teacher and chose to work in schools with underprivileged children. I wanted to be in a school where I could make a difference, where the students learned because of me, not in spite of me. When students come from a home where there is little to no support, school becomes their safe haven. I like knowing that I can be that for them.
My family also teases me because I regularly strike up conversations with the clerks at stores. Working in retail is hard on a good day. Dealing with the public can be frustrating and many people can be so unkind. I go out of my way to make sure that their interaction with me is a pleasant one. Who knows? That may be the only time in their day where someone was nice to them. It doesn’t cost anything to smile and give a kind word.
Some days it is easier to be a curmudgeon, I’ll admit. If I’m not feeling well, or didn’t get enough sleep, I find it harder to leave a positive mark. I cringe when I think of the times where I let my mood get the better of me and I made an ugly mark on those around me. Unfortunately, there is no product to remove those kinds of scuffs. I have to swallow my pride and apologize to those I’ve hurt.
One of my favorite things to do is leave encouraging notes for people in places where they might not discover them for a while. A coat pocket, between towels in the linen closet, wrapped around a can of soup, the options are practically endless. I even left a note in someone’s freezer once. I don’t know if they’ve found it yet. I think of it as a deposit in their emotional bank account.
I don’t mind it when my family teases me about those little paint smudges on the ceiling. I can see one from where I’m sitting as I write this. By the way, when we finished painting her living room, it wasn’t me who left a mark on the ceiling. My daughter did!
What kind of marks are you making on the world around you? What are you doing to leave the world a better place?