Something happened to me the other day that I have never experienced before in my life.  It was a first that I wanted to share.  I went back and forth, however, on whether or not to do so.  In the end, a greater truth emerged from this experience

and it pushed  me to concede.  I  decided that I will share this with you.

I am, by nature, someone who does not like the spotlight shining on my face.  I am more of a quiet "do-er" and really prefer to "do" in the background of the "production".  Alas, I write my little story for you today with hopes that it will shine a greater light on possibilities for all of us.

  A few weeks ago, I received a text message from a parent who has a child involved in our religious education program here at UUCW.  Here is the message (slightly paraphrased) :

Robin, thought you'd like to know that last night, my daughter told me that the kids in her class have been tasked to write an essay on a hero.  She chose you because you " greet people at church, and visited me at the hospital, and help homeless people."

Gulp.  After I stopped crying, I texted back .  I told this parent how thankful I was that she shared this with me.  I told her that this was a first for me! Gosh, I felt like I had just won the Pulitzer Prize via text message!  And, as I thought about this beautiful message, many questions popped into my brain.  How could I not know that this child thought about me in this way?  How could she have picked me for her essay?  Why do I feel unworthy?  Why me ?  Why didn't she pick someone who truly fits the topic, like, you know...Mother Teresa?

I then traveled back in time to when my two children had to write similar essays during their middle school days.  I vividly remember the look on my daughter, Brianna's, face as she spoke to me about her "hero" essay.  She told me that while most  of the kids in her class were choosing their mother or father as their hero; she was thinking about writing about Becky.  Was that ok?  Becky was a dear friend of mine and mother of three young children who had recently died at the age of 43 of breast cancer.  Brianna had babysat for the 1, 3 and 4 year old all during Becky's treatments.  Becky modeled heroism to my daughter by always giving her last ounces of strength to be a loving, joyful, and generous person and mother.  Then it was my son's turn.  Again, I was not picked.   Alex, wrote his hero essay about his "Papa" (my stepfather) who passed away the year before his assignment.  Like Brianna, Alex found heroism in a man who gave of himself until he could give no more.  I was proud of both of their decisions.

I discovered the other day, via my surprising text message, that you don't have to be dead to be included in a hero essay.  You don't have to be a saint or a parent.  You don't even have to do anything loud and noticeable.  A simple act of kindness gets noticed.

I was blessed.  A thoughtful parent let me know.  You may never be so lucky to receive a notice of your hero status via text message, but for certain, your kind and selfless actions are noticed.  They are revered by children.  They are memorized, internalized, and become entangled in the very being of that person impacted.  Your seemingly unheroic, non-Mother Teresa actions can be life-changing for another.  How wonderful is that news?  I always thought that I knew this, but that simple text message firmly cemented it for me.

I would like to thank ALL of the many instrumental people in our UUCW community for being heroes every day.  You are pledging your money to support programs that house the homeless, feed the hungry, and grow young minds.  You are the teachers and mentors and volunteers that make this church work.  You are  the "do-ers" behind the scenes, and may think no one even notices.  Let me tell you:  you are my hero, and you are the 'wind beneath our wings."

Peace and Love to You,

Robin

It might have appeared to go unnoticed,

Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're everything I wish I could be.
I could fly higher than an eagle,
For you are the wind beneath my wings.

                                                            ~ Jeff Silbar and Larry Henley