Those Who Serve Often Go Unnoticed.

I was walking along a really rough boulder strewn track. It was wet, having rained heavy most of the night and still it was raining. Parts of the path was thick with mud. I was well prepared, I had run this very track earlier in the day and so I was prepared. Coming towards me was a man carrying a heavy bundle of sticks. Each stick had a small flag attached to it. Every so often he would stop and secure the flag to a spot at the side of the track. He was wet, cold and covered in mud. We spoke and he told me that the next day there was to be a cross country race and that he was out marking out the route.

The next day the race took place. The runners set off at a great pace and from start to finish they followed the flags. At the finish line of the race people gathered to welcome home the runners, cheering them over the finish line. Standing at the back of the crowd clapping was the man I had watched the day before. I wandered over and said to him that I thought he had done a great job the day before. The race had gone smoothly because he, without thought of thanks had done his bit and prepared the route.

I remembered the story of the young boy and the Knickerbocker Glory, This was a large ice cream with fruit. A 10 year-old boy entered an ice cream parlour and sat at a table. A waitress came over to serve him ( do you remember the days when service was the name of the game?). “How much is an kickerbocker glory?” he asked. “5shillings” replied the waitress. ( This was in the time when that would be five weeks pocket money.)

The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it.

“Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. “Three shillings” she brusquely replied.

The little boy again counted his coins. “I’ll have the plain ice cream,” he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left.

When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two shillings. You see, he couldn’t have the knickerbocker glory, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip, and he wanted to do things right. Acknowledging the service was part of the way things were.

We have lost the art, to a great extent, of appreciating things done for us. Day in and day out the little acts of kindness go unnoticed. Because they do they also get less and less, and we all lose out in the end.

Each act of kindness acknowledged will lead to another one tomorrow.

This is the way of the Tao.

This blog is linked to my other. A Day That Only Got Worse

Let Us Race Again

I apologise that this morning my story begins again with a tale of running but I really just had to share this with you. Since my fall I had allowed myself to get so very unfit. I had not realised just how unfit I had allowed myself to get, until I tried to go for a run with my wife. She had to keep stopping and waiting until I caught up. So humiliating for it had always been me do the waiting.
Yesterday 28lbs lighter and a lot of walks and runs under my belt I was at the two mile mark a full minute and a half before her. I have to say it felt good, even to the point that I was feeling bad about just how good it was feeling. It was after all not a competition; it was just an exercising run.

I have though, to admit, always been very competitive. It feels good to be fit enough again that when I see a runner out in front of me I just want to catch up and maybe even pass them.

Now the reason I am sharing this is because this little incident reminded me of another story of a similar incident.

Long ago there was a young athletic boy hungry for success, for whom winning was everything and success was measured by winning.

One day, the boy was preparing himself for a running competition in his small native village, himself and two other young boys were to compete. A large crowd had congregated to witness the sporting spectacle and a wise old man, upon hearing of the little boy, had travelled far to bear witness also.

The race commenced, looking like a level heat at the finishing line, but sure enough the boy dug deep and called on his determination, strength and power he took the winning line and was first. The crowd was ecstatic and cheered and waved at the boy. The wise man remained still and calm, expressing no sentiment. The little boy, however. felt proud and important.

A second race was called, and two new young, fit, challengers came forward, to run with the little boy. The race was started and sure enough the little boy came through and finished first once again. The crowd was ecstatic again and cheered and waved at the boy. The wise man remained still and calm, again expressing no sentiment. The little boy, however, felt proud and important.

"Another race, another race!" pleaded the little boy. The wise old man stepped forward and presented the little boy with two new challengers, an elderly frail lady and a blind man. "What is this?" asked the little boy. "This is no race" he exclaimed. "Race!" said the wise man. The race was started and the boy was the only finisher, the other two challengers left standing at the starting line. The little boy was ecstatic; he raised his arms in delight. The crowd, however, was silent showing no sentiment toward the little boy.

"What has happened? Why are the people not happy for my success?" he asked the wise old man.

"Race again", replied the wise man, "...this time, finish together, all three of you, finish together" continued the wise man. The little boy thought a little, stood in the middle of the blind man and the frail old lady, and then took the two challengers by the hand. The race began and the little boy walked slowly, ever so slowly, to the finishing line and crossed it. The crowd were ecstatic and cheered and waved at the boy. The wise man smiled, gently nodding his head. The little boy felt proud and important.

"Old man, I understand not! Who are the crowd cheering for? Which one of us three?" asked the little boy. The wise old man looked into the little boy's eyes, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders, and replied softly . "Little boy, for this race you have won much more than in any race you have ever ran before, and for this race the crowd cheer not for any winner!"

This time the people cheer for the event.

This is the way of the Tao.

This blog is linked to my other.      Poppies In The Wind