Small Kindnesses An Encouraging Word, A Gentle Smile Might Make All The Difference

Charlotte’s sin against her peers was that she was tall for her age and slightly overweight. She violated the range of acceptability as narrowly defined by Seventeen magazine.

Ever conscious of standards, a few kids on Bus 88 took it upon themselves, periodically, to remind Charlotte of her shortcomings. These self-appointed guardians of cool, kids with bangs over one eyebrow, hip clothes and a knack for style, some days would tease Charlotte from the moment she lumbered aboard the bus. They ridiculed her shoes, mocked her pixie haircut, derided her parents - whom they’d never met - and her house, which they’d seen only from a distance.

Occasionally Charlotte would return fire, but most of the time she lost the war of insults, leaving the bus with her head hung low and her eyes brimming with tears.

There were other kids on that bus - regular old average kids who knew that the verbal attack was wrong. The afternoon ritual made them uneasy and uncomfortable. So they looked the other way.

Not a single adolescent mustered the courage to pipe up and say, “Hey, Charlotte, sit by me!” Not once, when Charlotte’s face flushed and her chin quivered, did anyone give her a pat on the back and whisper, “Just ignore them.” And not once did any of the regular kids dare tell the cool kids to stuff a sock in it. After all, age 14 seemed too young to die.

The regular kids believed the cool kids controlled not only the bus and the cafeteria, but the universe as well. They had no idea that in a few short years the pecking order established in school would disappear overnight.

They could not envision the day they would no longer be riding Bus 88, or the day that Charlotte joined Weight Watchers, dropped 20 pounds and matured into an attractive adult woman. Nor could they imagine the day when they would be in Charlotte’s place, on the outside looking in, longing for a smidgen of encouragement from just one person.

People never find themselves permanently planted in the circle of acceptance. Be it in youth or adulthood, we all have occasions when we feel like Charlotte - a bit awkward, a tad self-conscious or entirely out of place. Maybe we don’t draw fire because we’re too tall or too big. Maybe we’re too short or too thin. Maybe we don’t attract attention at all, but become invisible and ignored because we’re too slow, too shy, too poor or just too average.

Some of our most shameful moments occur when we let others languish in loneliness, when we overhear cruel taunts and we say nothing. Likewise, when we choose to speak up and say something, it’s a moment when the power of one individual shines at its finest.

The power of one person patting the back of the kid chosen last for basketball can make that player feel like a member of the starting lineup. The power of one smile directed to that person fumbling to recover in the middle of an oral presentation can be just the spark she needs to finish the job. The power of one person seeking out the name that goes with the new face at the back of the crowd - and offering a handshake - can enhance the reputation of an entire town.

These aren’t big things. They’re little things that make a big difference. From time to time, we all need the touch of a hand on our shoulder and an encouraging word - at Charlotte’s age or any age.

MEMO: Lori Borgman is an Indianapolis-based free-lance writer whose column appears in the Indianapolis Star and News. Comments may be sent to her at P.O. Box 30092, Indianapolis, Ind. 46230.