Gone Too Soon

She saw the picture on the back page of the newspaper. It wasn’t her paper. The man across from her on the bus was reading the news. The headline read, “Beloved Teacher Taken Too Soon.” She had wondered what happened, and now she knew. She felt an overwhelming sense of grief, even though she really didn’t know him. But, they had ridden the bus together practically every day for the past two years. One day he said, “You’re always writing in that little black book. What’s so important?” She told him that it was where she wrote down thoughts and ideas about things. “Like what?”, he asked, looking genuinely curious. She said it was to remind her about life’s blessings and normal stuff like places to go and things to do, but mainly it was ideas about how to help all the people she saw that seemed so sad. Some of the ideas were very small; little random acts of kindness like a card with a coupon for a cup of coffee. And then there were what she called the Lottery List; things like a program to help homeless people get apartments and a plan to set up a transition home for foster kids aging out of care. She told him that she kept all of the ideas in her little black book so that she would be ready if she ever had the opportunity to actually do something.

After that day, they had started talking more and she learned that he was a history teacher at one of the toughest middle schools in the city. He told her about how some of the kids tried so hard to overcome the challenges of the life they were born into and how others just seemed resigned to a life of poverty. He said he had been doing this forever, more than forty years, and could never imagine doing anything else. He talked about how there were some kids that visited that now had children of their own. It was an odd relationship, a young African-American 20-something woman and this older white gentleman with the military crew cut, but they always had plenty to talk about during their forty minutes together in the morning. He told her about his two sons. One was in the Marines stationed in South Carolina and had done really well for himself with his career; the other was in Oregon teaching, “just like his dad.” He was clearly so proud of both of them and was really looking forward to grandchildren one day. She remembered how he had teared up when he told her about losing his wife five years ago to a heart condition and she had thought it must be wonderful to be loved like that. She told him about her job as an assistant to the director of a local food bank and how she hoped to go back to school one day to become a counselor. They talked about family dynamics and how she had spent her teenage years making “questionable” decisions and wound up living with her grandmother for most of high school. She also told him about how she and her mother were talking again after some difficult times. She smiled when she remembered how seriously he had said that was a really good thing, “because you only have one mother.” He always listened to whatever she had to say. Even though they barely knew each other, it felt special to be able to talk to someone that way. And then, last week, he stopped getting on at his regular stop. She knew his first name, but that was about it, so all she could do was wonder if he was okay. And today she found he was not okay at all. Fighting back tears, she asked the other passenger if she could have the paper he had folded up on the seat next to him and made a note in her little black book to send notes to his sons about how special their father was and to offer her condolences.

Two weeks later, she was sitting at her desk when the mailman came inside and said there was a certified letter for her. She signed for the official looking letter, opened it and was shocked to see a check for $20,000 made payable to her. The letter was from an attorney, and it said Mr. Paul Rogers had left this money to her in his will, along with a letter that was included in the envelope.

Dear Beth,

When you get this letter, please don’t be sad. I’m at peace with my lovely wife and couldn’t be in a better place. I wanted to tell how much you brightened my daily commute and how special that time was for me. You are an extraordinary young woman with such a kind heart. In the world we live in, it’s too easy to ignore or, worse, judge those that are struggling. Instead, you think about ways to help and actually take the time to think about the details of how to actually do it. So, I want to help you put feet on some of those little black book projects. I trust you to choose the best use of the money and hope it will encourage you to never give up on your plans to spread joy whenever and wherever you can. Carry on well, my dear. It was an honor knowing you.

All the Best, Paul

She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks as she held the letter in her hand and kept reading it over and over again. Then she sat down and opened her little black book.