My oldest daughter is no stranger to random acts of kindness. If you don’t remember (or haven’t read about) her lemonade stand, check it out here.
But she’s at it again.
Yesterday she saw something online that prompted her to action. As you can see in the picture, she created one of those flyers that I first saw on the bulletin boards at San Diego State University when I was a student there in the late 80’s.
Typically, they were advertisements for used schoolbooks, fitness programs, babysitting, or other goods and services that the students were offering. To respond you would simply rip off one of those little tear-y things and call the number.
But as it turns out, responding to my daughter’s flyer is a whole different ballgame.
The entire text of the flyer says “TAKE WHAT YOU NEED.”
And the little tear-y things have words like “inspiration,” “beauty,” “honesty,” and “forgiveness.”
We then drove around and hung the flyers from light posts and trees and mailboxes in the neighborhood.
We hung them by schools and shopping centers and bus stops.
Her (rather existential) goal was to have people rip off what they felt they needed in their life and, by taking that action, she hoped that it would somehow pour that quality or element into their life on a higher level or greater spiritual plane.
Okay, we didn’t officially talk about it. But that’s my guess.
But it got me thinking. . .
What if she’s right?
What if we met someone and said, “Take what you need?”
What if we offered love or kindness or discernment or freedom or wonder or health or adventure to the people in our lives?
What if we could figure out what people needed most and weren’t afraid to offer it to them?
What if we were INTENTIONAL about helping people get what they needed WITHOUT them having to rip or tear a single thing?
I’m always proud of my daughters, but I am most proud at moments like this when they instruct me in ways that make me a better person.
For the record, I tore off the word “peace.”
What would you choose?
Figure it out. Then take what you need. TZT