the power of three

Being grateful is not something that all of us do every day. I certainly don't always remember to say thank you. But I know that I always remember when someone else does.

Remember that movie, 'Pay It Forward'? It starred the kid from the 6th Sense (Haley Osment) as a rough and tumble outcast with a stripper mom (Helen Hunt) and a thirst for finding meaning. Kevin Spacey played his disfigured teacher and I think Jon Bon Jovi, his dad. But the concept behind the movie, and inspiration for the title is thusfold.

1) You do a good deed for three separate people. It must be something fairly large, something that they cannot accomplish themselves.
2) They in turn, each do a good deed for someone else. You don't limit the number of people that they can help, but you do make it a minimum of three people OTHER than the one who did the good deed for them in the first place (hence the 'forward')
3) In return, the person that they have now helped, must help three more people. Asking nothing in return but for them to 'pass' the favor on.

Tonight, I dropped one of my ensemble members off at her place. She hugged me and she said as she was leaving the car, "I appreciate you." And I started to wonder who and why and where and when generosity starts in people. Why some people are more generous than others and how this gift comes about. I'll tell you when it happened to me.

I was about 9 years old, spending the ENTIRE summer hanging out in the office of my father's summer school where he was principal. Sometimes doing mundane tasks, but mostly drawing and goofing around. There was about two days where I discovered the daring thrill of calling 976 numbers, but that was pretty quickly squashed. There was the secretary to talk to and people coming and going. At the school, there was also a wonderful middle aged physical/ speech therapist, who was not married and childless. We took to each other like ducks to water. I found the mother figure (albeit, one who smoked like a chimney) I was craving, one who was interested in what I had to say and who was gentle, nurturing and funny. She found the child starving for affection. Her name, was and is, Ms. G. Grove.

She had white hair, in a shapely bob and glasses. A rough, hoarse voice and fancy nails. I remember her taking me down to the local deli to pick up sandwiches, she never ever wanted mayonnaise, but lots of mustard. And she bought me Martinelli's sparkling cider in the apple shaped bottle. I would help her organize her classroom, but then afterwards, could spend a couple of hours drawing with her fancy colored pens or answering her questions. And then there was the week, her niece, Seana came to visit. Seana was about a year older and a head taller than me, with braces - Ms. Grove thought we would be good company for one another.

On one of Seana's last days in San Francisco, Ms. Grove ended up taking us to the Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park. I had been there before with my dad, but this was different. This time, I was going with a friend. The exhibits seemed bigger, scarier, more interesting. Seana and I discovered things that I hadn't known before. Ms. Grove knew a lot about each of the different halls - or at least took the time to figure it out. We had lunch at the cafeteria and then Ms. Grove took us to, probably the favorite part of my day, THE GIFT SHOP (I swear I'm not Japanese)

She told us to get WHATEVER we wanted.

As a kid, I was often told that money was unavailable and that we couldn't afford lots of things. The things that one of my best friends was constantly receiving; Babysitter Club books, horse riding lessons, new shoes... I started to get nervous. Seana picked up little knicknacks, but I got very VERRRYYY quiet. Ms. Grove noticed and asked me what was wrong. I mentioned that my father had only given me a certain amount of money for the afternoon (enough to pay for lunch and probably admission) - and no money for presents. She hugged me close, looked me in the eye and said,

"Get whatever you want honey. Don't worry about it."

I picked out stickers, a cup and I also, distinctly remember getting gifts for my parents. Wrapping paper maybe. In the car, on the way back to the school, I sheepishly thanked Ms. Grove for her generosity. And she said,

"You girls, just remember this when you get older. And do it for someone else."

Those words, were simple. But the gesture was huge. And to this day, it is Ms. Grove's gift that makes me remember, that the actual present can be small, but it is the intention and the thought behind the gift that means the most. The things that people need, that they cannot do for themselves, that I can? That is my serving the world. Where I have, and others have not, I can give. She is my present, and now, I hope to return it to others. Whether it's buying someone a cup of hot chocolate or giving them a ride. Rest assured, you may not always remember otheres more talented or witty or smart. But the ones with the generous hearts are the ones who find a place in our minds.