It's the little things I love. I love white paper. I love pearls. I love the smell of a candle just burned out. I love Easter. I love my maiden name. I love repetition. I love to proofread. I love asymmetry. I love when people say thank you when I hold the door for them. I love to drive in the rain. And I love my red leather couch. I love to sign my name, speak my mind, and keep my hair off my ears. I love sheets off the clothesline, mail in my mailbox, and chapstick in my pocket. I love to be told I'm loved.
I admit I'm not the best at expressing what I feel through words but I like to think I'm thoughtful. I've always thought the best way to teach others is by example. I've never been somebody who preaches my beliefs aloud, but rather demonstrates them by the way I live my life. My mother taught me the art of many qualities and characteristics of life, but thoughtfulness is my favorite one.
As I've felt bogged down and behind on life lately, there have been some sweet, sweet people who have reminded me how important thoughtfulness is.
Tonight during conferences at school I left to run to the office and as I returned I found a treat on my desk with a note. The note read, "Thank you!! For all you have provided for our children through the years..." What a kind way to say thanks.
A student brought me a Christmas present at school earlier this year and said it reminded her of me and a pair of shoes she used to admire of mine. The gift was a frame with random letters on it - just like the shoes I always wore to school that I bought in Prague.
Thoughtfulness is the quality that most attracted me to my husband many years ago. I had a frustrating day last week and wasn't very nice to him when he asked what was bothering me that night. He sent flowers to me at school the next day to brighten my day regardless of how grumpy I was toward him.
I carry my external hard drive everywhere with me. Everywhere. I'm kind of like my students at school who say their bag is so heavy because they carry everything with them so they never forget anything. Even on days I don't need it I take it just in case. Carrying that drive in its original box for three years has taken a toll on the flimsy cardboard. Sarah always makes fun of how particular I am about carrying that box and my dad asked me once if I seatbelt it in my car. My student teacher helped me carry things into school one morning and as she picked my box up I thought I might have a heart attack. I was sure the drive was going to fall out the bottom of that box. The next morning she brought me a carrying case (should strap included) for external hard drives she picked up at Best Buy.
People notice.
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