Sometimes it’s the small things that mean the most. I ordered pizza and salad a week or so ago. When the delivery guy arrived, he had forgotten the salad. I asked him to drop it off on his next trip through my neighborhood. No problem! I had pizza to eat.
Thirty minutes later he returned with salad. I thanked him, and that’s when he told me about the number of people who blew up at him for small mistakes like this. He thanked me for my kindness.
I was so surprised, but then I remembered my younger days when I might have gotten upset too. Maybe with age comes wisdom. No one means for mistakes to happen, and he corrected it. Why be upset? Eventually I’ll be on the other side of the mistake. You can’t avoid them, and I appreciate when people understand and forgive my errors.
When I write, I can only have one voice in my head, mine. A little noise is fine. But too much, or worse yet, WORDS, and I must change rooms or pull out headphones. Then I can write on!