My older two kids tried soccer for the first time this year. Coach Bob was an extremely patient guy who worked the large group of kids aged 4-7. My kids were new to the sport, so they required more coaching than others. We had a volunteer signer, and practices were held three times a week for a month.
After the very last practice, my children gave Coach Bob a handmade card. He was visibly touched, but what struck me was how they were the only ones to do this. I didn’t see any of the other families thank him, although they may have and I didn’t see it. I found it hard to believe that this coach, who volunteered his time at the end of what probably were long days for him (he works as a school bus driver) and was so patient with very energetic children, received so little gratitude.
This made me think about how we have regulated gratitude. We have a designated day to show appreciation for pretty much every thing—like the recent Interpreter Appreciation Day (who thought that up, anyway?). There’s Bosses Day, Secretary Day, Teacher Appreciation Day, and Thank a Mailman Day. Let’s not forget Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Grandparents’ Day, Sweetest Day, and so on.
As the mother of four children, I always feel weird on Mother’s Day. My children already show their appreciation of me in so many ways, as does my husband; I don’t need a day when they feel obligated to give me gifts. They give me love every day, and that’s all I need. But I’m not going to rant about consumerism and how these are profit-making events. The point here is that I prefer to express gratitude freely, and because it’s the right thing to do.
On a separate, but related, note: At a birthday party, I saw two mothers talk about how the birthday child had included thank-you notes in each attendee’s bag. The child had painstakingly handwritten each note. The mothers, who didn’t realize I saw them, laughed at the silliness of the notes.
One said, “I would never let my child do that. I don’t care about people sending me thank-you notes.” The other responded, laughing, “Me, either! I don’t have the time!”
I felt so bad for the birthday child, who had seen their entire conversation. I quickly went over to her to praise her hard work in writing these notes, and she beamed. Later, as I helped clean up, I found one of the thank-you notes, still in its envelope, discarded on the floor. It was addressed to one of the children whose mother had laughed it off. I scooped it up and put it away so the child wouldn’t see it. Rather than receiving gratitude from a child who wanted to express it, they chose to mock the gratitude.
Last week, I inquired after a colleague’s family; she had lost her mother the year before. It was a simple, brief conversation and I told her I had been thinking about her family. The next day, she gave me flowers, much to my surprise. I asked what they were for. “Because you asked about my mother,” she said.
Her message was clear—most people had forgotten about her mother’s anniversary. And that saddened me. I started to tell her it wasn’t necessary—but then stopped myself. She wanted to express gratitude. Building and maintaining relationships means taking care of each other, asking about each other, and most important of all, expressing gratitude freely by choice. And we should receive gratitude with the same level of appreciation, instead of mocking it.
Small acts of gratitude mean more to me than appreciation days. Maybe others prefer to have a blanket appreciation event, especially those who don’t get recognized on an individual basis. That’s perfectly understandable, of course.
Today, maybe take time out to thank someone for something, even if it’s just for being a nice person. Express your gratitude in person. Write an email. Give credit on Facebook or Twitter for something someone did. It doesn’t have to be much, nor does it have to be public or forced. Simply make that person feel appreciated. Chances are the person will remember this effort far longer than any Hallmark-endorsed appreciation day.
Copyrighted material, used by permission. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.