Superserver- Helen Mistler
I was four years old, and an unassuming stranger’s small act of kindness made him a hero in my eyes.
We had been biking for miles in the sultry South Carolina heat, and I didn’t think that my little feet could peddle a minute longer. Finally, we arrived at a charming, outdoor restaurant situated at the edge of a marina.
Clad in pink Keds and rhinestone sunglasses , my four-year old self followed the waitress as she escorted us to our table that overlooked the water. We dined on a delicious lunch of hot dogs and crispy curly fries before paying our bill and making our way to the exit. As we gathered our belongings and stood up to leave, an empty table in the center of the patio caught my eye. As my parents were making their way out of the restaurant, I darted towards the empty table. About the time that I began climbing my way up the plastic patio chair to reach the table, my parents turned to notice that I was no longer waddling behind them. They panicked and began busily scanning the crowds for any signs of their pink, bedazzled toddler. My mom felt a tug on her sleeve as my dad looked at her and pointed in my direction. They didn’t realize that, after watching countless UT football games, I had memorized every word to my favorite song, “Rocky Top”, and was eager to share them with a crowd. I scurried up the plastic patio chair and took my place atop the wobbly table and proceeded to belt out my rendition of “Rocky Top,” for the entire restaurant to hear.
My parents stood below me in shock, having not realized that I even knew what “Rocky Top” was, or that I had memorized every lyric and was now screaming them for everyone to hear as they peacefully ate their lunches. For those few minutes, perched in the center of the restaurant, I was living the rock star life that I had always dreamt about. The crowd cheered, and I felt like I was on top of the world, until I caught a glimpse of a waiter headed in my direction with a menacing expression on his face. My little heart sank, and I mentally prepared myself for this waiter to come over to me and demand that I get down from the table and stop singing. When he finally reached my table and stood beneath me, I gulped audibly and looked back at him with widening eyes. I noticed that his hands were tucked behind his back, and my four-year-old mind immediately panicked, thinking that in those hands were handcuffs that he would use to send me to restaurant jail for causing such a commotion. Instead, he looked up at me with a smile, handed me a microphone and told me to keep singing just a little bit louder so that guests in the back could hear me.
My exhilarating moment of stardom was almost cut short, but instead this stranger’s small act of kindness made this an even more memorable day. Service, in its simplest form, is fostering the joy of other people, and that is exactly what he did. I have not always thought of service in this way. For so long, I was of the mindset that service was only possible through structured, sophisticated projects and organizations with which one may volunteer. But it’s not. Serving others is possible every day with everyone we encounter.
This waiter did not write me a check, he did not host a 5K on my behalf, and he did not collect jars of peanut butter to send to me. He simply saw what brought me joy, and did what he could to promote my excitement, in a small, yet impactful way.
Some of the most inspiring role models of serving others through spreading joy that I have had the pleasure of meeting are the women of Magdalene House and Thistle Farms. Magdalene House is a residential program for women who have survived prostitution, trafficking, and addiction, and Thistle Farms in the social enterprise half of the program in which the women make and sell handmade products. SLLC officers traveled to Thistle Farms this summer to work with and learn more about the women in their program. Thistle Farm’s moto, “Love Heals”, is plastered on the walls of the building and on the labels of each of their products. I think this is such a beautiful mission that simply yet eloquently affirms what every service act should aim to achieve. Thistle Farms relies on service work in the forms of fundraisers, and donations from the community in order to maintain their programs. Realistically, Thistle Farms, like other non-profits, could not exist without these crucial fundraisers and drives. We started our day at Thistle Farms by sitting in on the weekly meditation circle that anyone in the community is welcome to be a part of. Every week during the meditation circle, women of in the program go around and share their stories of how they found a home at Magdalene House as well as anything else they are moved to share with the group. Over and over, the women repeated how grateful they were for the joy that the program has given them since their arrivals. These stories were all encouraging testaments to the fact that while Thistle Farms could not exist without the incredible projects, fundraisers, and drives that help fund the program, their mission would only be successful through fostering joy in these women.
At the end of the day, money does not heal people, people heal people, and only when projects are rooted in compassion and selflessness, can they truly heal a problem or a need. We all left Thistle Farms, feeling encouraged and uplifted after hearing the stories of the women and spending the morning surrounded by their welcoming spirits. The women at Thistle Farm’s have mastered the art of giving and loving on others, and they served us greater than we could ever have hoped to serve or support them.
There are so many wonderful ways to serve, and no one way is better than another. We need canned food drives and penny wars just like we need encouraging words and good listeners. No matter how we choose to serve, we should always aim to serve WITH people, never for them or at them. We shouldn’t serve solely to accumulate service hours or to add another bullet point to our resumes. Serve meaningfully and intentionally, and find ways to be involved with what you’re passionate about.
Meaningful service can be done in the halls of Harpeth Hall, in the hills of Africa, and everywhere in between. Whether it’s painting walls at Hands on Nashville Day, making a team to participate in race for the cure, or even simply smiling at someone you’ve never seen before, all of these things are great strides towards making a difference and benefitting someone in need.
I would like to leave you with a quote by Douglas Adams, “ To give real service you must add something which cannot be bought or measured with money, and that is sincerity and integrity.”