The Encouragement Foundation

Archive for the ‘Your Stories’ Category

I had been working much too long on this job. I guess things could have been worse. I certainly wasn’t doing hard labour. But going door to door asking questions as a representative of the federal government wasn’t the most satisfying position either.

It was August. It was hot. I had to wear a tie.
“Hello. My name is Bob Perks and we are doing a survey in this neighbourhood…”

“I’m not interested!

Good bye!”…slam, lock.

You can’t imagine how many times I heard that. I finally caught on and began with, “Before you slam the door, I am not selling anything and I just need to ask a few questions about yourself and the community.”

The young woman inside the doorway, paused for a moment, raised her eyebrows as she shrugged her shoulders, confused by my rude introduction.

“Sure. Come on in. Don’t mind the mess. It’s tough keeping up with my kids.”

It was an older home in a section of the valley where people with meager income found affordable shelter. With the little they had, the home looked comfortable and welcoming.

“I just need to ask a few questions about yourself and family. Although this may sound personal, I won’t need to use your names. This information will be used…”

She interrupted me. “Would you like a glass of cold water? You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

“Why yes!” I said eagerly.

Just as she returned with the water, a man came walking in the front door. It was her husband.

“Joe, this man is here to do a survey.” I stood and politely introduced myself.

Joe was tall and lean. His face was rough and aged looking although I figured he was in his early twenties. His hands were like leather. The kind of hands you get from working hard, not pushing pencils.

She leaned toward him and kissed him gently on the cheek. As they looked at each other you could see the love that held them together. She smiled and titled her head, laying it on his shoulder. He touched her face with his hands and softly said, “I love you!”

They may not have had material wealth, but these two were richer than most people I know. They had a powerful love. The kind of love that keeps your head up when things are looking down.

“Joe works for the borough,” she said.

“What do you do?” I asked.

She jumped right in not letting him answer. “Joe collects garbage. You know I’m so proud of him.”

“Honey, I’m sure the man doesn’t want to hear this,” said Joe.

“No, really I do,” I said.

“You see Bob, Joe is the best garbage man in the borough. He can stack more garbage on the truck than anyone else. He gets so much in one truck that they don’t have to make as many runs,” she said with such passion.

“In the long run,” Joe continues, “I save the borough money. Man hours are down and the cost per truck is less.”

There was silence. I didn’t know what to say. I shook my head searching for the right words.

“That’s incredible! Most people would gripe about a job like that. It certainly is a difficult one. But your attitude about it is amazing,” I said.

She walked over to the shelf next to the couch. As she turned she held in her hand a small framed paper.

“When we had our third child Joe lost his job. We were on unemployment for a time and then eventually welfare. He couldn’t find work anywhere. Then one day he was sent on an interview here in this community. They offered him the job he now holds. He came home depressed and ashamed, telling me this was the best he could do. It actually paid less than we got on welfare.”

She paused for a moment and walked toward Joe.

“I have always been proud of him and always will be. You see I don’t think the job makes the man. I believe the man makes the job!”

“We needed to live in the borough in order to work here. So we rented this home,” Joe said. “When we moved in, this quote was hanging on the wall just inside the front door. It has made all the difference to us, Bob. I knew that Joe was doing the right thing,” she said as she handed me the frame.

It said: If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep the streets even as Michelangelo painted or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, “Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.” Martin Luther King

“I love him for who he is. But what he does he does the best.

So how was your day? Did you give it your best? Or did your attitude get the best of you?

“I believe in YOU!”
Bob Perks Copyright 2001 www.bobperks.com

I know you by heart

I recently heard someone say, ‘What you do for others you do also for yourself.’

I was confused at first, because it almost made me feel selfish. I mean, I love doing things for other people, but my wife told my recently that I always put others first. She was saying that was one of my faults. I needed a little more ‘me’ in my efforts to change the world.

I visit people in nursing homes, retirement and senior centres. I love to spend time with older folks. It’s like mining for gold. They have been down the road ahead of me and I want to know what they have learned so that I make the right choices.

A speaker at a conference I attended many years ago asked, ‘Where do you think the most valued real estate is in the world.’

Hands went up and offered big city names, resorts in development and exotic locations around the world.

‘Nice try,’ he said. ‘The most valuable real estate are the cemeteries. Buried there are dreams that might have changed the world, perhaps cures for major diseases that were never developed and people who could have made a difference in your life but never took the chance. What happened? No one listened.’

I listen, I encourage, but I don’t realize the value of what I do or understand the impact.

It was during a recent visit to a new facility that I realized that my efforts made a difference in the lives of those I met.

‘How are you today?’ I heard someone ask.
I turned around and scanned the room to see who was speaking.

‘I heard the voice of an angel!’ I said smiling. ‘Where are you?’

Then I heard a faint laugh in the corner.

‘Oh, there you are. I am so lucky to find you today,’ I said.

She was seated on an old Victorian looking couch. It reminded me of the furniture in my mother’s living room. We could only sit on it when company came. So, I jumped at the opportunity to sit next to this wonderful woman. Her hair was white and neatly brushed with an occasional wave gently reflecting the light from the nearby window. Her hands crossed on her lap resting on top of a knitted pink blanket that covered her legs. Two practical looking walking shoes peeked out at the bottom and a wooden cane was placed within her reach nearby.

‘It’s good to see you,’ she said. ‘I love when you come to visit.’

I was a bit surprised to hear her say that. I had never been here before. Maybe she was transferred her from another place and she remembered me.

‘It’s good to see you, too,’ I said.

‘You always brighten my day,’ she added.

I sat quietly for a moment trying desperately to remember if we had met before. I really love to remember names. It makes people feel good when you remember.Then I asked, ‘When was the last time I saw you?’

She turned her head away for a moment and then looking back at me, she said, ‘Oh, we’ve never met, you and I. But I know you by heart.’

How curious. We never met, but she knows me by heart.It must have been the look on my face that caused her to explain further.

‘There is something about people like you. You are the ones who carry the world on your back. When you walk in a room you make us smile. When you touch my hand I can feel the warmth in your heart. People like you bring flowers, music and sunshine. Even when you bring nothing at all, you leave so much behind’

I was humbled and at a loss for words.

‘My, I thank you for saying that,’ I said. ‘When you said, I know you by heart, I naturally felt like I must have met you before.’

‘I know you by heart, because I always did the same thing. I always put others first,’ she said.

There it was again. ‘Putting others first.’

Then I shared, ‘I heard someone say – what you do for others you do also for yourself.’

‘I am living proof of that,’ she said. ‘You see, after all that time, after all that caring it all came back to me. People like you now visit me and I know you by heart.’

Written by Bob Perks

Bob Perks is a professional speaker, author, vocalist and member of the National Speakers Association.

From the moment Gabby spoke I knew something was terribly wrong.

It was the call every parent of a helicopter pilot dreads. My daughter-in-law was distraught and my heart almost broke on the spot.

Over the years I had receive two similar calls but each time my son Steve was the one on the call so I knew automatically that he was alive.

When Gabby was finally able to speak, she was able to tell me what she knew. It seemed to me that he was alive but not much more.

In my mind his injuries were possibly life threatening and as it turned out certainly life changing.

I was a thousand kilometers away and Steve’s mother and my wife, a further thousand kilometers away helping a family member move.

The trip from Caloundra on the Sunshine Coast to Cairns was excruciating. I arrived in Cairns and somehow found my way from the airport to the hospital.

To say I was concerned about what I would see when I got there would be a huge understatement. My thoughts were along the lines of what was I expecting to see when I walked into the emergency ward at the Cairns Base Hospital.

It is difficult to describe how one feels when confronted by a situation like this, only those who have walked through a similar experience will know the fear and anxiety.

The moment eventually came. I walked into the room and I saw Gabby standing beside Steve. It was marvelous to see her there knowing she had managed to get to Steve and to be there to comfort him.

I will never forget seeing my great big tough son lying motionless on that bed, hooked up to all sorts of tubes. Steve was covered in dirt and fuel from the accident.

I literally did not know what to say or what to ask either, to encourage him or console him. All I could see was this immobile body lying in front of me.

As a bit of a softy I look back now and see that I was in shock.

Finally I had to say something and what now seems rather silly I said “How are you mate?” You can just image how he was!

His comment is what turned the tables for me as a “Defining Moment”. Even though he had to struggle to say it, he said “everything is good dad”

These words were totally unexpected considering the circumstances. However these words were the encouragement and strength I needed to be part of the team of family, friends and community who were there for Steve over the next 13 weeks, as he went from intensive care into operating theater 11 times.

His pain was incredible, his discomfort was indescribable, but his words brought energy, hope and encouragement to me.

“Everything is good dad”.

I will never ever forget those words and the feeling of hope he instilled in me.

Steve’s legs were broken in five places. His spine was badly damaged, his shoulder socket was ripped out, and he had several lacerations over his body and two patches of 3rd degree burns. He was to lose his right leg before he left the hospital.

“Everything is good dad”.

Steve now spends a lot of his new life encouraging others never to give up. He believes that no matter what your circumstances are, if you have the right attitude, not only can you achieve great things in your life, but your experiences can be used to help others.

Steve was back flying in his beloved chopper only 9 months later.

by John Shadforth

How much is a kind word worth? How deeply can a touch heal? How important are your little interactions with your family, friends, and clients?

Hairdresser David Wagner learned these answers from a customer who came to him regularly every month. One day she phoned David in between her regular visits and asked if he would style her hair for an important event that evening. David fit her into his schedule and gave her his usual loving attention. He talked amiably with her, laughed, touched her kindly, and told her how beautiful she looked. After her session, she smiled and thanked him.

You can imagine David’s shock when a few days later he received a handwritten letter from the woman explaining that the important event she wanted to look good for that evening was her own funeral. She had planned to commit suicide later that day. When she spent time with David, however, the kindness he showed her influenced her to change her mind. She decided that life was worth living, and she could go on.

This extraordinary feedback inspired David to reconsider what he was doing with his work and his life. He realized that his purpose with customers went far beyond cutting hair. Within his own sphere of influence he had the power to make people’s days – and even lives. So he adopted the vocation of “Daymaker.” Now, as owner of ten successful spas that treat thousands of people each day, David teaches his employees to see themselves as daymakers. His inspiring book Life as a Daymaker chronicles his adventures and techniques.

Never underestimate the power of a kind word or thought. It may affect one or many, many people without you even knowing it. Even a gentle touch can make a huge difference. My friend Rick Jarrow was participating in an intensive Zen meditation retreat that required him to meditate many hours a day in rigorous conditions. One morning Rick decided this was just too hard, and he would leave the retreat after the morning silent walking meditation practice. During the walk, a student behind Rick gently placed his hand on Rick’s shoulder. “In that touch,” Rick told me, “I felt totally comforted and encouraged. It was as if my friend was saying, ‘I know this is hard for you. I believe in you. You have what it takes to do this.’ So I decided to stay, and I went on to gain tremendous strength from that retreat. That touch was the turning point.”

You don’t even need to speak or touch someone to help them. You can serve simply by the energy of your being. Emerson noted, “Who you are speaks to me so loudly that I can hardly hear what you are saying.” Indeed at every moment we radiate empowerment or discouragement simply by the feelings we dwell in.

One day while I was standing in line at a deli counter, I noticed a woman in a line beside mine. She kept looking at me as if she knew me. I didn’t recognize her, so I just kept moving ahead. When we finally arrived at the counter at the same time, the woman turned to me and asked, “Why are you so happy?” Her question took me by surprise. I wasn’t thinking about being happy or even trying. “I guess I’m just glad to be here and alive,” I answered. “How about you?” I asked her. “How is your day going?”

She thought for a moment and then answered, “Well, it wasn’t going so well. But now that I saw you, I feel a lot better.” With that, we both smiled and went on our ways. As I thought more about her comment, I realized it was the most meaningful compliment I could ever receive. Just being was healing.

I have experienced such healing simply by seeing a peaceful person for a moment. One day I was rushing through an airport when I noticed a man who looked unusually serene. His face was soft, his gait was light, and his demeanor felt comforting. In that moment my energy shifted from anxious hurry to deep peace. Though he will never know it, he taught me that airports are not necessarily stressful. Stressful thoughts are more dangerous than airports. If we choose healing thoughts, we become a beacon of peace in apparently dense or dark places.

A friend went to pick up a revered rabbi from the airport. As the two drove toward the tollbooths to exit the airport parking lot, my friend had to choose between an automatic payment lane and a lane manned by an attendant. “Take the lane where you pay a person,” the rabbi urged him. “Why is that?” asked my friend. “Because any opportunity to make contact with another human being is a blessing from God,” answered the rabbi.

In this light, every one of our interactions is a prayer. There are no chance encounters and no small meetings. Everyone we meet is sent to us by God for a noble purpose. Every relationship, not matter how brief, is an invitation to connect. As we remember to keep love first, we have our priorities in order and we might even save someone’s life – beginning with our own.

From No Small Meetings by Alan Cohen as published in his From the Heart column. Used by permission. All rights reserved. For more information on Alan Cohen’s books and programs, visit www.alancohen.com

A few years ago, at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all physically or mentally disabled, assembled at the starting line for the 100-yard dash.

At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win.

All, that is, except one little boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a couple of times, and began to cry.

The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back.

Then they all turned around and went back.

Every one of them.

One girl with Downs Syndrome bent down and kissed him and said:
“This will make it better.” Then all nine linked arms and walked together to the finish line.

Everyone in the stadium stood, and the cheering went on for several minutes. People who were there are still telling the story.

Why?

Because deep down we know this one thing: What matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What matters in this life is helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing our course.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the famous 19th-century poet and artist, was once approached by an elderly man. The old fellow had some sketches and drawings that he wanted Rossetti to look at and tell him if they were any good, or if they at least showed potential talent.

Rossetti looked them over carefully. After the first few, he knew that they were worthless, showing not the least sign of artistic talent. But Rossetti was a kind man, and he told the elderly man as gently as possible that the pictures were without much value and showed little talent. He was sorry, but he could not lie to the man.

The visitor was disappointed, but seemed to expect Rossetti’s judgment. He then apologized for taking up Rossetti’s time, but would he just look at a few more drawings – these done by a young art student?

Rossetti looked over the second batch of sketches and immediately became enthusiastic over the talent they revealed. “These,” he said, “oh, these are good. This young student has great talent. He should be given every help and encouragement in his career as an artist. He has a great future if he will work hard and stick to it.”

Rossetti could see that the old fellow was deeply moved. “Who is this fine young artist?” he asked. “Your son?”

“No,” said the old man sadly. “It is me – 40 years ago. If only I had heard your praise then! For you see, I got discouraged and gave up – too soon.”

By Anonymous

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person her name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know. “Information Please” could supply anybody’s number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn’t seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the foot stool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. “Information Please,” I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

“Information”

“I hurt my finger…” I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question.

“Nobody’s home but me,” I blubbered.

“Are you bleeding?” the voice asked.

“No,” I replied. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.”

“Can you open your icebox?” she asked. I said I could.

“Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger,” said the voice.

After that, I called “Information Please” for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts. Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called “Information Please” and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?” She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, “Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.” Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone. “Information Please.”

“Information,” said the now familiar voice.

“How do you spell fix?” I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. “Information Please” belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity, I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle I had about half-an-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now.

Then, without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information, please.”

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

“Information.”

I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying, ” Could you please tell me how to spell fix?”

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, “I guess your finger must have healed by now.”

I laughed, “So it’s really still you,” I said. “I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time.”

“I wonder,” she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.”

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

“Please do,” she said. “Just ask for Sally.”

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered,”Information.”

I asked for Sally. “Are you a friend?” she said.

“Yes, a very old friend,” I answered.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” she said. “Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.”

Before I could hang up she said, “Wait a minute. Is your name Paul?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you.” The note said, “Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He’ll know what I mean.”

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today? Why not pass this on, I just did.

An expert in time management was speaking to a group of business students and, to drive home a point, used an illustration those students will never forget. As he stood in front of the group of high-powered overachievers he said, “Okay, time for a quiz” and he pulled out a one-gallon, mason jar and set it on the table in front of him. He also produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them, one at a time, into the jar.

When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked, “Is this jar full?”

Everyone in the class yelled, “Yes.”

The time management expert replied, “Really?”

He reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. He dumped some gravel in and shook the jar causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down into the spaces between the big rocks. He then asked the group once more, “Is the jar full?”

By this time the class was on to him. “Probably not,” one of them answered.

“Good!” he replied. He reached under the table and brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand in the jar and it went into all of the spaces left between the rocks and the gravel. Once more he asked the question, “Is this jar full?”

“No!” the class shouted. Once again he said, “Good.” Then he grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the brim. Then he looked at the class and asked, “What is the point of this illustration?”

One eager beaver raised his hand and said, “The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard you can always fit some more things in it!”

“No,” the speaker replied, that’s not the point. The truth this illustration teaches us is: If you don’t put the big rocks in first, you’ll never get them in at all.

What are the ‘big rocks’ in your life — time with your loved ones, your faith, your education, your dreams, a worthy cause, teaching or mentoring others? Remember to put these BIG ROCKS in first or you’ll never get them in at all.” So, tonight, or in the morning, when you are reflecting on this short story, ask yourself this question: What are the ‘big rocks’ in my life? Then, put those in your jar first.

by Stephen Covey

As most of you know most jobs today come with a lot of stress. I work for an Insurance company and we are going through a lot of changes right now and it is causing a lot of stress for all of the people in my department as well as the agents.

A few weeks ago I was having a very bad day and was about ready to start looking elsewhere for a job that was not as stressful. Something happened that day to change my way of thinking and I am so appreciative of this young lady. Things have been stressful for me personally as well as at work. I want to let her know that the small act of kindness touched my heart.

In my cubicle I have a small collection of lighthouses and everyone on my team knows that I collect them. I have them sitting on top of the cubicle to let people know where I am sitting in case they have to find me for any number of reasons.

I came in to the office and was standing at my cubicle waiting to log in and get the day started when Crystal came over to my cubicle. I turned around and she said hello. I said hi and asked her if she needed anything. She said, “I bought you something.” I looked at her with a puzzled look and said “Well, thank you, but why would you buy me anything.” I had never spoke to this young lady before. She said, “Every day I stand up and look across the room and see your lighthouses. I was out shopping with my mom over the weekend and saw this and thought you would like it.” In her hand she had a small globe with a lighthouse and ship in it. I gave her a hug and thanked her. I don’t think she knows how much that small act of kindness changed my day.

I kept the small globe on my desk for a few days. Now it sits on my television in my apartment. I hope for anyone that reads this you remember, no matter what the gesture is you could change someone’s day.

by Tammy Mansfield

We touch the lives of others in ways we often never know. People sometimes come into our personal world for fleeting moments and can leave us forever changed. We have more power to create or to destroy than we can imagine. We can leave things or individuals better or worse than we found them. A look, a word, a gesture has tremendous impact and frequently we blither along through our existence unaware of the mighty power that our communication wields.

Here’s an example:

It was a rainy, humid day: the mother of all bad hair days. I was riding on a bus downtown to go to work. The windows on the bus were covered in condensation so thick you couldn’t see outside. Everyone was wilting. I was sitting next to a man in a business suit and didn’t pay much attention until we both got off at the same stop and walked to the same newsstand to get a morning paper.

The man running the stand was obviously having a bad day. He was rude, abrupt and unsmiling as we purchased our papers, which served to only add more gloom to my day. The businessman caught my eye and smiled. He then proceeded to smile brightly, thank the newsstand proprietor for the paper and for being open on such a morning to make sure we were able to get our papers. In short, he expressed his appreciation for something most of us would take for granted.

The man running the newsstand responded only with a grunt and a sour expression. The businessman then pleasantly wished him a pleasant day.

As we turned away, I asked this man why he had continued to be pleasant to the newsman when he obviously didn’t care about and didn’t respond to his expression of appreciation and friendliness. The businessman grinned at me and said, “Why would I let someone else control what I say and what I feel or what kind of day I’m going to have?”

We then separated to go to our respective work places. To this day, I don’t know who that business man was, where he worked, or anything else about him. I never saw him again, even though I looked for him on the bus on other days. He appeared briefly in my life and disappeared just as quickly. I don’t even remember what he looked like. But I’ve never forgotten the words he said or the way his smile seemed like a shaft of light on a gloomy day.

That was a good 25 years ago, but the impact this had on my life has lasted. I never had a chance to thank him personally, but the way in which I try to choose to look at life as a result of those words is his legacy to me and my thanks to him.

Our interactions with the people we encounter can impact at least the next five people that person encounters. A smile and words of simple appreciation multiply themselves geometrically.

We cannot control people and situations that come to us, but we can always control our response to them. And in such positive decisions lie our control and personal power to make a positive difference. And it’s something anyone and everyone can do. It is a real legacy that can impact both the present and the future.

by Gail Pursell Elliott
www.innovations-training.com