As a shop girl I was not only the face of the company I represented but an important brick in the wall of my local community. This considered, those who work in grocery stores, Wal-Marts and Cost-Co stocking the aisles have the power to move mountains! Don’t you believe me?
I wore more bracelets than a gypsy and the closest to coordinating flower I could find in my hair. I believed in bright colors, and like an everlasting gobstopper my hair morphed in hues. But most importantly I wore a smile when facing any day or any store at full capacity of customers.
“Oh my God,” I would hear in hushed gossiped whispers at any given weekday evening at a favorite dive like Chili’s or TGI Fridays, “that’s the girl from the mall. You know the one that laughs allot, ohmygawd, I love her purple hair!”
I had become accustomed to adoring fans by the time I hit twenty-three, waving in kindness, answering whatever questions. Sometimes in the mall I would be stopped for selfies for their Facebook feed, or find customers in my store seeking out some harbor from their troubles through laughter.
I knew I had the power to change the world even when I was a young child. I knew I had the ability to make a difference in someone’s day. I made an effort to reach out to each and every 300 bodies in my junior high class with great exuberance each and every day. I had the power of spreading love through an upbeat attitude throughout the day. I believed in writing about hope, I believed in sharing kindness, and I believed everyone deserved to be loved.
Maybe we were infatuated with the idea of picking on you because you were so unique. So YOU. And you never seemed to give a … about what was “cool”. –Classmate who deserves love.
If you told an artist that they had a gift, they would deny it. It comes so easy to them, no effort; that’s the funny thing about gifts. Kindness and love is a gift of mine. My husband would laugh at this, and remind us all just how critical and mean I can be. 😉 It’s about the setting and the mindset. Any mathematician will struggle to write their proof in a room full of screaming toddlers, a gift doesn’t mean reverence.
On my first day of student teaching I rode a bright green bicycle with a cherry fabric lined basket and a flower in my hair. “Oh shit,” half the class exclaimed, “it’s the bong lady!”
“Hookahs, not bongs, and greetings class, let’s get started…”
My reputation was vast and as I started to travel for work I was amazed at the reaches of my reputation. I would step on soils, states away, at which I had never treaded in my life and discover at least three customers who remembered some way I touched their lives from some distant journey where we had met in a previous chapter of our life.
I loved my customers, because they deserved love. Even as some stressed and upset individuals would scream that they were turning me into the Better Business Bureau over a sold out item, I could only smile. I could only hope that they find some peace for their strife. In most cases my continued concern and kindness smoothed the customers’ issues before they could even storm out of the store.
My gift, much like painting, can be learned. It may not be as natural, it may not come as easy, but all it takes is the want to make a difference in this world. Just the want to be that person who moves mountains.
“I just want you to know that I come here today because I just need to hear your laugh. It’s one of a kind, could be picked out of a crowd, and uplifts our souls.” -Random Stranger Who Shared a Hibachi Table the night before.
What are your gifts?? How do you utilize them to move mountains in your day to day life???