Day 7: You Get What Ya Give

How often do we hear of someone going through a particularly difficult time, or remember an old friend and think, I should give him a call?

Oftentimes, I allow a blanket of busyness to smother the urge to make real connections. It is convenient to send an email, and surely that is better than nothing at all. But somehow we seem to have lost the art of picking up the telephone or stopping by for a visit to open the two-way dialogue that happens in conversation.

Recently, a friend I have known since we were 12 years old called to wish me a "happy birthday." We spent an hour catching up. When I hung up the phone my sense of belonging seemed more sure. Lisa's thoughtfulness lifted my spirits for days.

A few years ago I had the privilege of briefly knowing Frances Hargraves. Mrs. Hargraves had been living and teaching school in Chapel Hill since the sidewalks were made of dirt. She was an anchor in the classroom during civil rights turmoil and was beloved by students of all colors. So great was her impact on the community that an elementary school and community center were named in her honor.

Weeks before she died, I went to visit her. I wanted to see her one more time and thank her for helping with Project Compassion. Walking into her bedroom with a freshly picked bouquet of black eyed susans, I found Mrs. Hargraves surrounded by young family members anxious to attend her. I thanked her for allowing me, a recent acquaintance, the time to see her when so many wanted to be with her. She smiled and made me feel like I was the most important visitor in weeks.

When one of the young women commented on all the visitors and flowers Mrs. Hargraves had received, I mentioned that I wasn't surprised. Smiling, she sighed deeply, laid her head back on a pile of pillows and said, "Well chil' you get what ya give. Just remember, you're gonna get what ya give."

Each year when the black eyed susans begin to smile their summer greeting, I remember my inspiring friend's advice.

I am aware that one day I too will be only a memory. What kind of memories am I leaving?
Is there someone in your life that you would like to give a call to or stop by and visit right now?