Ripple

I was looking over my blog today... the inside of it, not the published things.  I saw a bunch of drafts, unpublished, mostly unfinished.... some made no sense at all.  But this one?  I found this one pretty much complete... I don't even know the date that I wrote it.  Why did I not publish it?  I don't know, but I think it's worthwhile.  (and Britta's daughter is probably 15 now...)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight I chatted with a dear friend for a minute.  She told me a story.  A story of ripples.  Ripples from some of my own actions from almost 17 years ago.  

You see, I told a lie so that this beautiful friend could come into my life.  We had a vacancy in our college house.  The spot was nearly sold... maybe even a deposit check had been given to secure the spot, I can't remember for sure... but then Britta showed up on the doorstep, with her Dr. Martins and her cute, short corduroy skirt.  I don't know why, but I didn't tell her that the spot had been potentially sold already.  I walked her in the house and showed her around.  We connected.

She expressed that she'd really like the spot and I told her that we might have a little hiccup with the availability... but I'd take care of it.  

What did I do?  I lied.  

I called the mother of the potential roommate (who came with her to tour the house).  I told her that there was a mix-up, a mis-communication, and that the spot was already sold.  This woman was NOT HAPPY.  It did not go over well, and for good reason.  I would be mad too, were I in her position.  I didn't care.  I took whatever she dished out.  I knew who was supposed to live in that house and it was NOT that woman's daughter.  

So, Britta moved in.  

Britta was shy.  She spent most of her time at her then-boyfriend's house.  When she did come home, she would come in the door and go straight to her room.  If I was around and I knew she flew in under the radar, I would follow her into her room and talk to her.  Draw her out.  Get to know her.    

Some time passed and we became friends.  

Christmas rolled around and we had a gift exchange planned with the eight girls who lived in our house.  We drew names.  Someone drew Britta's and they commented that they didn't know her at all and wouldn't know what to buy for her.  I told them I wanted her name.  I knew her more than anyone else did.  I bought her a book that I thought she would like.  

It seems like after that gift exchange that she started feeling comfortable around everyone, not just me.  We became a cohesive house of girls.

Britta and I were roommates for another year after that.  She is the reason I met my husband.  Some of the best times of my life were spent with that beautiful girl.  She has always been a source of comfort for me and I've always been tremendously grateful for her in my life.    

Tonight Britta told me that her 9 year old daughter, Ellie, was telling her the story of how we met and that I was a "kick-bum example of greatness".  I laughed and clarified... Ellie was telling Britta the story of how Britta and I met?  Britta confirmed it and said that they both love that story.  

I thought that was cute and said as much, but Britta didn't stop there.  

She said, "It's a great story."

Me: "...of how I LIED?  Yes, such a great example..."

Britta replied: "...Of how I was shy and out of place, how the other girls didn't want my name for Christmas because they didn't know me.  You volunteered and got me The Book of Virtues... you made concerted efforts to spend time with me, to get to know me..."

All the while, I'm interjecting and tell her to STOP IT. 

Britta says, "We use you as our example of how to be and how to reach out to others.  True."  

Me:  "Stop.  You're making me cry."

Britta:  "How I felt insecure and didn't know how to fit in....  {Ellie} uses you as an example and can list off kids she reaches out to at school BECAUSE OF YOUR AWESOME EXAMPLE."   

Me:  "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

Britta:  "Not a chance.  Huge ripples there... it resonates with her.  She looks up to you big time and I love that she follows suit."

Me:  "I don't even know what to say."

Britta:  "OWN IT!

So.  This is me trying to own it. 

You never know how far your ripples will reach, or for how many generations, for that matter.  I learned tonight that my friend's nine year old daughter is telling the story of how Britta and I met and using the good parts of it in her life to someone else who needs help.  

You never know the reach of kindness.