LeliaThomas.Com

Little Lights Among the Darkness

I deal with a lot of moody and demanding people at my job, and well, it isn’t for me. Dealing with people of annoying attitudes or wishy-washy personalities is not easy. A lot of people tend to love you until you say you aren’t going to do something completely to their wishes; it’s apparently hard for quite a few of the locals to figure out that the paper doesn’t entirely revolve around one of its 10,000 readers. Every now and again, though, you meet little lights among the darkness–people who have wonderful, deep personalities.

When I meet these people, I always notice they tend to be on the fringe, a bit like myself. They don’t fit in with the crowd necessarily, because they aren’t convinced the world is about them; they don’t do things to get in with a group. They are who they are, and they live accordingly. They make families with people like themselves, and they live long and work hard. These are the kind of people I will remember to tell my chlidren about one day. These are the people that youths desperately need to be aware of.

There have been people I have met who have left everything behind them to pursue God-given talents, from amazingly artistic basket weaving to stand up comedy with a message. I’ve met a sketch artist who has struggled for years for coverage because he was different from everyone else and, therefore, an outcast. I’ve met a woman who remembered me for doing something good, and there’s nothing quite like being recognized for something you did right.

Some of these wonderful individuals probably don’t feel like their efforts are recognized, but here is a little lesson for those reading this. Someone recognizes good people and good efforts. It may not be the crowd, but it is someone. In the cases of those I have met, it is, at the very least, me.

One thing this job has helped me realize is that though it may appear that no one sees you, and though you may feel like just a simple blip on the screen, someone, somewhere knows you, sees you, and is contributing to your life in some indirect way. Some of these people may never know of the recommendations I’ve given for them; many will never know how much maneuvering I’ve done to give good coverage to good people.

The lesson here is that the good do triumph on some level. Your eyes may not see it, for they may still seem to sit on the edge, looking in, but on the edge, they’re experiencing joys that the crowd does not. Better yet, there is also justice.

I sometimes receive complaints from people who have sent me things, only to find them buried deep in other content, hardly noticable. It’s entirely on purpose, much to my own personal humor. It is my means of balance. If you’re rude, if you talk bad about another group, if you demand before requesting, then I’m going to give you the worst coverage that I possibly can. Call it Karma, call it the Golden Rule, call it whatever you like, but it is the hand you will be dealt from me.

I believe in goodness, and I believe it should be rewarded. I think one of the worst things we have done in our world is to only punish the bad and to allow the good to go unrewarded. How many “bad people” might have not turned out the way they have, if only someone had reached out to them when they were struggling, when they were trying? Rewards are for those who deserve them and no one else.

When I have children one day, I prepare to gently remind them that the world isn’t about them; it’s about a much larger, broader picture. It’s about doing the right things to the best of your ability, for yourself, your family, and others–and to allow yourself acceptance and growth for your mistakes. It’s about following what’s always been there, planted inside you, to become what you were meant to be, rather than what others make you out to be–and to follow role models like those I’ve mentioned. People you know, people you’ve been touched by, not distant figures that you only know by their weekly tabloid pictures.

It is about reaching out to others, grabbing their hands, and reminding them that they are, in fact, seen and remembered and making an impact–hopefully, a good one. It’s about reminding the crowd that the world, though it may be filled with an insurmountable grief and darkness, still has a little light in it. And some people, myself included, never intend for it to die.

Comments ordered from oldest to newest.

bew

Some people at the church I work at are the exact same way as those you’ve described above: completely self-absorbed, always inquisitive as-to why the world (and the happenings in our church) doesn’t/don’t revolve completely around them and their preferences. I can not stand people like that because they seemingly have some limiting disability that prevents them from grasping why things are a certain way, why they are different than the way they want them.

I continually try to understand people like that, but you put it best: “I think one of the worst things we have done in our world is to only punish the bad and to allow the good to go unrewarded.” If people would see (and acknowledge) what we’re doing right instead of only what we do wrong, I think we’d all be better off, we’d all understand and appreciate each other so much more. It’s wishful thinking to expect it, but we can always have hope, can’t we? :)