Today I attended my five-year-old nanny child’s preschool graduation; it was a beyond-precious experience. Smiling, giddy faces sat in tiny, tough-plastic chairs, and eyes and waving hands constantly found parents and other supporters in the rows of us there. We all listened and clapped on cue, but it was difficult not to keep smiling as audience members, recognizing these sweet little beings advancing to a much bigger place called Kindergarten. While not a parent, I’d still picked up my nanny sweetie twice per week after school for this entire school year, and I know what her school days have entailed, how she has interacted with her peers, and names of several of her classmates and their parents. I made sure we never left without Lamby or ballet shoes, usually tucked in her cubby, in addition to items numerous enough to require a bag to tote them all home.

This alternative preschool here in Boulder, Colorado, does amazing things to honor its graduates, and the gesture that I found most touching during today’s ceremony was the moment before bestowing each child his or her diploma: one of the three teachers would read a brief, poetic, heartfelt message that captured observations and sentiments unique to said child. Each teacher struggled to keep his or her voice steady but could not resist pausing because of tears and emotion. Most messages seemed in the spirit of haiku, and all were lovely acknowledgement of the child’s nature and energy—legacy, particularly in the context of leaving a chapter behind.

Such a simple gesture, yet so very powerful. Imagine taking more time, more regularly, to just say the nice things to each other. I find that I love still sending cards—yes, the kind with stamps—as one means of  an opportunity to express compliments and appreciation. We don’t hear often enough how we impact others, how we make others feel and what gifts we give in our own way. Starting with someone’s look, choice of clothes or jewelry is a great start, but what about the unique, day-making kinds of comments?

“In high school, I started a compliment box, an idea I got from one of these types of books.

I kept little note cards that each had a compliment I’d received that year. While I stopped the compliment box when I got to college, I came across it recently while cleaning out my childhood room. Flipping through the sections, I bypassed all the compliments on my eyes or my smile, which, while sweet, didn’t really tell me anything about me. I poured over the compliments on my schoolwork and my personality.

Compliments from others on your looks only reflect what the person looking at you can physically see. Compliments from others on intangible things reflect something more profound.”

~ Molly Ford, “The Importance of Unusual Compliments”: Guest post on Fueled by Diet Coke Blog

I remember keeping a “happy folder” that was started in high school; a few other friends and I decided to create these collections because we were going through some especially tough times and needed some sunny thoughts for reference. After attending retreats and participating in other opportunities that sometimes yielded cards or a list of encouraging statements and compliments in high school, I would save these things, along with inspirational thoughts I’d write in calligraphy, in my happy folder to review on the days when life got especially tough. I remember keeping this folder for quite some time and consulting it during college years. This collection worked wonders.

But back to this morning’s graduation ceremony and the unique, beautiful words expressed to each student. I just couldn’t help but think, “Why don’t we do this kind of thing more?” We wait until the few recognized public moments in our lives, like graduations, wedding… funeral, to really say the good stuff. Why wait? Birthdays are at least every year, but we don’t really need an “occasion,” do we? Let’s increase the love and words-that-lift. Daily.

“I expect to pass through this world but once.
Any good thing, therefore, that I can do or any
kindness I can show to any fellow human being
let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it,
for I shall not pass this way again.”

~ Stephen Grellet

© 2012 Erika M. Schreck. All rights reserved.