“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Does everyone have a chance to win at something?”

This was the question from my empathetic ten year old as she pondered her recognition this past weekend.

“Well…yes, I think most people have a chance to do well at something.”

“I hope so.”

“It feels good when we do well and people recognize us for it, doesn’t it?”

“Yep.”

For those of you who may not know, our oldest, Eva, has been recognized for a story she wrote as a part of the annual PTA Reflections contest at her school. Reflections is a National PTA program that encourages students to engage in the arts, stemming from a time, decades ago, when such programs were under direct funding assault. They’re still not over-funded in most schools, but thankfully they haven’t been abolished in most places either. The Reflections theme changes each year, and students in all grades are encouraged to submit entries that engage the arts around the current year’s theme. This year’s theme was, “Let Your Imagination Fly.” The seven categories include choreography, visual arts, photography, and literature, to name a few.

Eva entered a story entitled, “Lilly the Moose”, into the literature portion of the contest. It won the fourth grade for her school and was passed on to the County level, where it won again, and then on to the state level. In Atlanta she won the fourth grade literature

contest for the State of GA, and was also chosen to go on to the National PTA contest, having had her story chosen from the winning entries for grades 3-5. Out of more than 2000 statewide Reflections entries, 28 are sent on to nationals (four from each of the seven arts categories). We’ll know in May how she fares at the national level. Needless to say, we’re incredibly proud parents. We know that Eva likes to write and has always had a great imagination. I also know that other children have such gifts as well, and yet it has been amazing to watch her get this recognition. Especially since we almost didn’t go.

When we knew that Eva had placed at the state level, we weren’t sure we could make the trip to Atlanta for the awards ceremony. I have a vocation that makes weekend travel a bit of a challenge. But, as we thought about it, we realized that she would benefit from this opportunity and that it could very well be a life-long memory for her. I hope that it is also a life-long motivation for her to keep writing and using her imagination too. She’s reaching that age where kids seem to use their imagination less because it’s not cool. Foursquare is supplanting recess make-believe games. There will come a day when stories and talking moose are relegated to the pile of childish things left behind as we grow up, and yet I hold out hope that this set of memories might keep that at bay a while longer.

I’m a little sad that there aren’t more kids who have this kind of opportunity for recognition. Such moments can be life-defining, although we typically don’t realize it in our childhood. Some young people find it in sports, some in academics, some in the arts. I’m also aware many don’t get such recognition. As a child I wasn’t really best at anything. I did ok with many subjects in school, and I participated in theatre and sports in High School, yet I was never the star at any of them. I like to think I turned out ok. I have, however, had other opportunities to find recognition in life too.

In my short career before seminary hard work and ability was rewarded. In seminary I was recognized for a few things, which was nice. The ordination process is a bit different, and yet the affirmation that came along the path to priesthood was about the recognition of gifts too. And I have to agree with my daughter: It feels good to be noticed; to be celebrated; to be recognized. I recently heard a story about a person who left a position after ten years on the job in order to accept another position in another state. As they were on their way out no one recognized their contributions or even said, “Good luck, and thank you.” It was hurtful, to say the least.

Lessons on humility tell us we shouldn’t need such recognition, but there is no denying that it feels good when they come. It makes us feel whole, accomplished, appreciated, and special. And in truth, they need not be huge. Not everyone will be able to take first place, or win the playoffs, or be the best. But everyone can be recognized for something. And perhaps each of us can play a role in making that happen for the people in our lives who just might need it. I’m not talking about the participation trophies that we often give to kids who show up for things (not that I’m against such trophies either). I’m talking instead about recognizing people for who they are and what they bring to the world around them.

Look around your life; are there people you can recognize? Can you send them a note or call them up and tell them how they’ve made a difference and how grateful you are? Can you tell the guy next door what a great job he does with the flowerbeds around his house? Can you fill out the survey on your receipt to be sure the young woman who checked you out at the store gets a pat on the back for doing a good job? Can you do something extra nice for your spouse or your child or your friend to let them know they are extra special without it being a birthday or an anniversary or a holiday?

If you’ve read the book or seen the movie version of The Help, you’ll no doubt remember the scene where Aibileen is speaking to the young girl in her charge as a house maid, a young girl whose mother seems to think children are only a burden and a distraction. Aibileen sits her down regularly and says, “You are kind, you are good, you are important,” even making the child say it out loud to be sure she knows it. Everyone, child and adult alike, needs to hear these messages from time to time, and all of us can help make sure they do.

Tom+

Almighty God, we entrust all who are dear to us to your never-failing care and love, for this life and the life to come, knowing that you are doing for them better things than we can desire or pray for; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

PS: There have been many requests to read Lilly the Moose, and we will find a way to make that happen. I don’t want to just put it out there in cyberspace because we may very well try to get it adapted into a true children’s book at some point. But, if you really want to read it, I will ask the author to give me a copy to keep on hand at the church in the meantime. I think she’ll let me do it if I ask nicely.