As I sat with my list of new mentees in the Fall, I knew I had a problem.  The article I had just read on failed mentee-mentor matches lingered in my head.  "Who would I ask to mentor Harry?"  I loved Harry.  He was the prototype of a high school kid who really needed the nourishing touch of just the right mentor.  Harry had survived his freshman year - barely.  Dealing with years of a learning disability and fighting off anyone who recognized it was one of his greatest secrets.  Dealing with the fact that his youngest sister was a "star" in the eyes of his parents was another.  As I recall sitting so many times last year with Harry in tears as we talked in my office - his safe place as he called it - I recognized that this hard-boiled young man who so many viewed as just a boisterous and oppositional wise-guy needed some good old-fashioned support that a great mentoring relationship could bring.  But Harry would not accept just anyone who I would offer as a mentor.  He would test his mentor in his own way to see if he could really trust him.  He would see what would happen if he didn't show up for a meeting.  Harry would look for the smallest sign of rejection and cut a mentor loose if he sensed a judgmental attitude.  I could not afford, nor could Harry, the pain of a failed mentoring relationship.

As my eyes scanned the list of possible mentors, they locked on one name - John Linitz.

John was entering his senior year and had already been mentoring for two years.  John was one of those students who was so much wiser than his years.  He was an exceptional  listener.  He respected that people needed their space and gave them as much as they needed.  John would offer to do things for another on his own that had not even occurred to some of his fellow classmates.  Most of all, John would never judge Harry.  He would endure the tests.  He would even know why he was being tested.  John would offer a gift to Harry like none he had ever received - the gift of a supportive and caring mentor.

Well, as the months have come and gone, John has proven to be all that I thought he would.  He showed up every Monday to meet with Harry.  When Harry did not arrive on time, John knew exactly in what classroom he could find him.  When Harry would hesitate in sharing any of his history, John would let him know that it was OK.  Harry could choose to keep it light.  When one day John stood outside my office and I offered to go and find Harry, John said, "Don't worry Doc.  He'll be here".  A moment later, in walked Harry - beaming to see John waiting for him.

In a life which can sometimes carry so much suffering, there are those who are angels.  In a world which can cut us so deep, there are those rare individuals who are natural healers.

At times in life when some are ready to throw in the towel, there are those who would offer a hand.  As a mentoring coordinator, we are blessed to come to know mentors who are truly gems of human kindness.  They offer themselves and ask nothing.  They know that it is only in the spirit of love and commitment that they can make a real difference and rise to meet some of the most difficult challenges that a mentee can share.  And they know that in the end, a noble cause must be answered with a noble heart.  I no longer worry about a failed mentoring relationship with Harry.  He has found John Linitz.