Saturday, December 03, 2005

I Did My Very Best

There are a handful of people who I barely knew that I would like to meet again one more time before I die. I have something to tell each of them. One of them is a woman named Susan.

I suppose it’s clear enough that I am what they call a late bloomer. Plenty bright about the things that come from books. Plenty dim about the things that have to do with people. Ingenuous would be the kindest term. Dorky would be most accurate. I just didn’t get the most basic things, like why I should have left my knee socks home when I went to college. At eighteen, this late bloomer was still a seedling deep inside.

Susan, on the other hand, was a woman no question. She had found her feet, her soul, her mind. She walked down the hall with ease and talked with confidence and calm. She wore her clothes in contrast to the way my clothes wore me. Her roommate, Lisa, came in like me and by the semester’s end had changed into a woman too. Susan had a magic way with people. Like me, Susan was going to be a teacher. Her choice was high school. Mine was primary school.

I don’t think we had a conversation ever, but we must have. Maybe it was the passing friendship I had with Lisa that brought Susan and I in contact now and then. Who remembers that far back? She used the bathroom at the other end of the hall, so interaction wasn’t regular or natural.

But one day when my late bloomer state had left me feeling quite confused, I was walking back to my dorm room and Susan stopped me. I suppose something about my walk or my look must have telegraphed my feelings. That she stopped me shows what kind of person she was.

For what seemed no reason she said, “You know I’ve noticed you have this childlike quality. It’s very rare and valuable. Hold on to it. Don’t ever lose it.”

That could be the moment I began believing there are angels everywhere.

I’d give a whole lot to find Susan to remind her of what she said to me. So that I could tell her. I did my very best to make sure that I never did.
—me strauss Letting me be


Anonymous said...

I'm sure she knows somehow. People like that just know.

we all need our angels. now that I think of it, I've had way many through my life.

thank you for posting this reminder of our angels. (and about keeping our childlike innocence) -now I have something sweet to dream about.


"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Garnet,
What a lovely thought you write tonight after such an exciting carnival at your blog.

Sleep well my friend. Sweetest dreeams.

Anonymous said...

I was also inspired by a very good teacher. He was so good that I didn't take notes while he was teaching. I just read the books and listened to him. I passed his class with flying colors. He was THAT good.


I met him a couple of years later. He was smaller and thinner than he used to be.

We said our hi's. Then it went awkward. I don't know why. I felt so disappointed with that.

I hope that once you meet Suzan she gives you more than a "hi".

Anonymous said...

I think you managed to keep it well, you are an amazing soul Liz, and so many times you write things I can relate to very well. I have been lucky to have several angels in my life and have been blessed by each and every one.

hope you are having a good nite (hugs)

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Thank you Taorist,
I don't expect that Susan would even remember me. I just would like to tell her that for one moment she made meaning in my life.

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Thank you T,
You are an angel in my life.


Anonymous said...

Thats made me all googly.
But I am sure, if you can't return the honour to her, you've passed it on to others a 100 times.

Anonymous said...

This tender post brought tears to my eyes. Tears heck, I was crying, and am still leaking.

“The way my clothes wore me.” I remember feeling like that too. Sincere kindness when spread around is heavenly. Hugs, Lori

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Cheryl,
It's fun to see you in the mornings again.
I like making you goory.
Thanks for saying that.

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Lori,
Thanks for coming to visit,
It's nice having you over.