We finally find the elevators. We hear the ‘ding’, the doors open, and we get on. As the doors start to close, a slightly overweight, well-dressed young man sprints to the doors. Someone holds them open so he can get on. I feel an odd twitch in my brain, but I’m so used to them I hardly acknowledge that something has happened. The elevator closes and we head up to the 4th floor. I’m looking at my reflection in the shiny silver doors, then turn to my sister Nancy. The young man is standing right next to her. “You write children’s books, don’t you?” he asks me. I feel my whole body jolt. I’m at Saks Fifth Avenue in New York. How is this possible? I think maybe he’s mistaken me for someone else. I ask him how he knows that. “I never forget a face,” he replies. “We talked for a while about 5 years ago.” I start to feel something jelling in my brain, but I still can’t put my finger on what is happening. I think I’m stuttering, or mumbling, or something. “You gave me some good advice on writing,” he says. That ‘something’ starts to solidify a little more - I maybe can vaguely sort of remember meeting and talking with this young man, but where? I feel the energy scurry back through the seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, until it lands on an unlikely scenario. Me talking over a glass counter, speaking to a store clerk in some big department store somewhere - Minneapolis? Maybe 5 or years ago.
“I hope I said something profound,” I laugh. We’re at the 4th floor, and everyone gets off. But Desmond and I. I’m pretty sure I’m holding the door, but I just have to know. “You gave me the best writing advice I’ve ever gotten,” he said. “You told me to write what I know, and write from my heart.” I feel myself start to breathe again. “I’m so glad!” I say. “My name’s Susie.” “I’m Desmond.” We shake hands, and part. I think I’m a little in shock. What’s so unbelievable? That he remembered me from all those years ago? That we happened to meet AGAIN in New York? That he remembered what I’d told him? Ah - that’s it, I think. We go through our days speaking with maybe even hundreds of people, and just once, just this once, one of those conversations has come back to me, and I’m able to see the impact I had on that one person. It stupefies and humbles me all at the same time. How about any of the encounters when I’ve been less than kind? Downright crabby? Mean? How has that affected others? What might happen if I try, REALLY try, to be kind to every single person I meet? What might happen if I smile at more people, help more people, be more patient? How might that change the world? I don’t know, but I’m so grateful not only to Desmond, but the kind Universe that set that chance meeting up so that I could understand the ripple effect more succinctly. We drop that rock of energy into the big lake of Oneness, and that energy goes out and out and out and out. Whatever it touches is affected, in whatever way. Most of the time we walk away right after we drop our rock, so we never see those ripples. But they’re still there, AND they get bigger as they circle out, touching more and more. It’s a big thing to think about, that kindness factor. How am I doing? Pretty good, I think. Pretty steady these days, pretty loving and patient and understanding. But I can do better. I will keep doing better. Because it’s the kind thing to do. And Desmond? Wow - thank you SO much. That WAS almost totally unbelievable, and if I weren’t there, I might not have believed it could happen. But it did, because I WAS there. I’m just glad my sister was there, too, because now she’s my witness! And boy, am I glad I said something smart! Because trust me, that is not always the case…