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thoughtfulness

Education

Teachers share their sweetest gifts from students and it's a moving lesson in generosity

The most thoughtful gifts often cost nothing at all.

Heather Babin Benoit/Instagram (via Upworthy)

A simple purple crayon can mean more than any expensive gift.

Generosity comes in many forms, but the most beautiful gifts come straight from the heart, no matter how much they cost. And when a heartfelt gift comes from a child? That's a pure form of giving that's hard to match.

A former teacher shared a story of the most memorable gift a student had ever given her, and it prompted a flood of teachers sharing similar stories that show the meaning of true generosity.

Heather Babin Benoit shared a photo of a small white gift box with a purple crayon inside it with the following story:

"Nine years ago, a student of mine saw other kids giving me presents and he had nothing to give. He took a box from a present he was given and his purple crayon from his pouch and wrapped it. He walked up to me and said, 'I hope you love it, it is your favorite color.' I still get tears in my eyes when I open this box.

Purple is my favorite color. He knew that. He paid attention to what I said. He didn’t have much to give in his eyes but he gave me so much more than a purple crayon. He gave me love. He gave me his heart. He gave me a kind gesture.

Nine years ago, it was my last Christmas as a classroom teacher. I received many gifts in this lifetime, but this present will always be a gentle reminder that it is always the thought that counts."

The comments on Upworthy's share of the story on Instagram were filled with teachers sharing similarly meaningful gifts their students had given them over the years. (Fair warning: If the purple crayon didn't already have you grabbing a tissue, you might want to grab one now.)

"A student once got me a dryer sheet. He had a troubled home life and didn’t have a lot of money, but he brought me a dryer sheet for Christmas because 'It’s my favorite smell, and I wanted you to have one to smell too!' It’s been 8 years, and I still have that dryer sheet. ❤️" – @roxanneamarques

"I had little boy in my Kindergarten classroom who brought me a mostly used bottle of old perfume. He said I’m sorry it’s all I had. I assured him I loved it and he said. “It was my Mom’s favorite perfume and you remind me of her.” His Mom had died the year before. The most selfless and heartfelt gift I have ever received." – @carol_j_becker

"This reminds of a student I had when I taught 1st grade, his family didn’t have money for store bought valentines so he hand wrote valentines on loose leaf paper with pencil to every student in the class. Kids understand the true meaning of giving." – @heatherbee721

"Years ago a student gave me a tiny piece of paper with just a curved line on it. It was our last day working together and he told me it was a smile. I still have that little smile in my office. 🥰" – @orangegrad

"Years ago when I taught pre-k, a child gave me a packet of ketchup for Christmas so he’d have something to give me. His mom worked at a burger place and he spent his afternoons and evenings there sitting in a booth because she had no child care. 😢❤️" – @awcarlsson

"One year one of my first graders gave me 2 extra long Slim Jim beef sticks that I believe were intended for her own snack. Keep in mind I am a vegetarian. 2 hours into our day she came up to me and said Ms. Hagan, I’m really hungry and think I need to eat one of those Slim Jims I said absolutely. Then an hour later she came back and whispered, I’m starving and I need to eat that other Slim Jim. Best present ever and best story. 😂😍" – @lu.hagan

"My daughter was teaching at a school where many students didn’t have money for gifts or great home situations. A little girl who received free breakfast took all the marshmallows from her cereal box and put them in the bag the plastic silverware came in to give my daughter her teacher as her Christmas gift. I could still cry thinking about how much her little heart wanted to just give a gift to her teacher." – @stacykib

Other commenters shared how much the story meant to them.

"I really hope that kid sees this someday and then he'll know how many people smiled because of his beautiful purple crayon," wrote one person.

"You cannot compete with the pure innocence of a child, that’s why their energy must be protected," shared another.

"I'm not sure which is more beautiful. That the student gave the sentimental gesture, or that the teacher recognized the sentiment in the gesture. Both are making me cry," shared another.

Indeed, giving a gift from the heart is one thing; recognizing the value of such a gift is another. May we all be thoughtful givers and receivers, especially with the children in our lives.

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Heroes

She's looking for people her dad helped on 9/11. The story itself is a timeline cleanser.

Photo by Skyler Smith on Unsplash, Mercedes Martinez/Twitter

Uplifting stories involving the 9/11 terrorist attacks can be hard to come by. Even the incredible, inspiring stories of heroism from that terrible day usually include a backdrop of planes exploding and buildings collapsing, narrow escapes and near-death experiences, traumatic images and collective grief. Such stories are important, of course, but we wouldn't exactly call them "feel-good" stories.

This 9/11 story is different. It's a story of simple human kindness towards people who weren't right in the thick of the attacks but who were directly affected by them nonetheless. It's a reminder that thoughtful, everyday actions by thoughtful, everyday people can have a meaningful impact in the lives of people they come in contact with.

Mercedes Martinez is the host of a Las Vegas area morning radio show, and she shared a story on Twitter about what her dad did to help seven strangers get home after flights were grounded on 9/11. She's hoping to find the seven people, but just reading about what her dad did is enough to restore a bit of faith in the goodness of ordinary people.

She wrote:

"Did my dad help you on September 11, 2001? If so, I'm trying to find you. (a thread)

On September 11th, 2001 my dad caught a flight in Ohio to fly home to Denver. He was there on business and was anxious to get home to see his family.

Shortly after takeoff, the pilot announced that the flight was being grounded. There was a breach of security and they had to land at the nearest airport. That airport was in Omaha. The pilot said he was hoping to have more information for the passengers when they landed.

My dad knew something was wrong, so as soon as he got cell service, he called one of the rental car companies and asked to rent the biggest van they had. At this point they were still in the air.

When he deplaned and heard what was happening, he made his way to either Avis or Hertz (we aren't sure which one he called), got the van, parked, and went back to the terminal. He found a cardboard box by a trashcan and asked to borrow a sharpie from a ticket agent.

He made a sign out of the box that said "GOING TO DENVER" on it. People started approaching him asking if he was going that way. He said yes, he rented a van and he would be able to take 7 people with him. Word started to get around.

He found 7 strangers, all scared (so was he), that just wanted to get home to their families.

The 8 of them hopped in and my dad drove them from Omaha to Denver. When they got to the metro area, he drove every single person to their home.

If you know the Denver area, it's big. There are many suburbs in the area. But each one got front door service. They all offered to pay him for the cost of the van. He wouldn't accept it. They offered him gas money. He didn't take it.

To him, seeing those people make it to their families when the country was being attacked was the only thing that mattered to him. Many of those people kept in touch with him for several years after 9/11/01. It warmed his heart. We were so proud of him. We still are.

My dad died from brain cancer on July 24, 2016. I often wonder if those people still remember him. I wonder if on the 20th anniversary of that day, will they think of him for a split second when they reflect on where they were?

I know social media is powerful and I'm really hoping this tweet finds those people. I'd love to hear about that drive. His name is Emilio. And I know there were so many heroes that day. I am grateful for each and every one. My dad has and always will be my hero.

And I do believe my dad was a hero to 7 people that needed to get to their families in Denver on September 11th, 2001. If you were one of them, please DM me."

Indeed, that quick-thinking, thoughtful, and generous act was heroic. Thank you, Emilio, for exemplifying sheer human decency and kindness. And thank you, Ms. Martinez, for sharing your dad's story.

Martinez post the story last night, and as of this writing, there's been no update that any of these people have been found yet. Let's utilize the power of social media to see if we can get her connected with the people her dad helped.

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People can't get enough of this sweet story of Eric Carle responding to a lost cat sign

Lara B. Sharp/Facebook

Eric Carle may be best known for his beloved children's classic, "A Very Hungry Caterpillar," but he actually created more than 70 children's books in his 91 years of life. His unique paper collage illustration style makes his books distinctive and instantly recognizable. With his passing this week, the world has lost not only an artist but a simply lovely human being, according to a delightful viral story shared by writer Lara B. Sharp on Facebook.

Sharp wrote:

"Eric Carle, the incredible children's book author, has passed away...

Many years ago my chonky cat Julian — I called him The Shmoo — was let out of my apartment by an irresponsible and perhaps, in hindsight, diabolical landlord of my rent-stabilized apartment in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. I was absolutely devastated, of course, so I posted homemade fliers: Have You Seen My Cat? — with several of The Shmoo's photos, and offering a substantial reward, ALL over the neighborhood.

The SchmooLara B. Sharp

Shortly after my fliers were up I received a phone call from a very concerned man telling me that HE was going out to look for my cat. Every day, for five days, morning and night, this unknown man called me to ask after my lost cat, and every day he reported back to me about his own search... He was so unbelievably kind to me, while I sobbed into my landline telephone... I told him that I had no education, and no career, and no family, and a boyfriend who was all Boy, and No friend... The Shmoo, my rescued dumpster cat, was my Everything... I talked and talked and talked about myself, and he endlessly listened...

Eventually, my extremely overweight cat was returned to me from the kitchen of the Italian restaurant a block away. He spent the whole time there, eating ravioli and meatballs. Aside from being four pounds heavier and stinking of roasted garlic and stewed tomatoes, he was fine.

The SchmooLara B. Sharp

The first person I called with the great news was the nice man on the phone!

He was as happy as I was about the return of The Shmoo, and he asked if he could meet him... Normally I'd be like, 'Nah bro, you ain't gettin' my address', but this unknown, older gentleman was so kind and so supportive of me - like the dad that I'd never had - that I said I'd love to meet him, and have him meet my fat, beloved kitty...

When he arrived, because I knew he loved cats, and not much else about him, and because I wanted to express my gratitude, I gave him a huge stuffed cat from FAO Schwartz as a gift, and after he met The Shmoo, as he was leaving, he handed me a thin envelope...

Inside, was a beautiful book, called 'Have You Seen My Cat', and it was signed by the author, Eric Carle.

The sensitive, selfless person who listened to my sobbing, for days on end, called me twice a day, and physically searched all of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, for my chubby lost cat, was the famous children's book author Eric Carle.

The revelation was so stunning to me that terminal shyness set in, and I never phoned him again.

To be treated like a daughter, when I'd never had a father, and by such an important person, who cared so much about a kitty that I loved so dearly, meant more to me than I was able to express at that time...

All these years later, it still means just as much. Many years later, when The Shmoo eventually passed away, I had him cremated with an Eric Carle postcard of 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar'.

I've never told this story before, because it was so precious of an experience that I kept it to myself.

I'm sharing it today, because I have so much love for him, and I always will, and because I can't stop thinking of him. I will never, ever forget him.

For five whole days, I had the world's greatest dad.

'Have You Seen MY Eric Carle?'"

People are loving Sharp's story, as it gives us a glimpse into the private character of the man most of us only know through his kids' books. What a lovely tribute to an author who not only brought joy into the lives of millions of families with his books, but who also took the time to help a stranger who needed support.

Rest in peace, Mr. Carle. Thank you for making our world a bit brighter while you were here.

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Family

What a suicide survivor wants you to know about her triggers.

One woman explains why survivors of suicide loss can spend much of their days dodging triggers.

This story was originally published on Reflecting Out Loud and The Mighty.

The other day while in Target, I overheard two young women in the bathing suit department:

One held up a bathing suit and jokingly showed it to the other, asking "How about this one?" The other girl responded, "I’d kill myself if I had to wear that."

The following day I was in Kohl’s camp shopping for my daughters. A frazzled mother was talking aloud to herself as she passed me, her toddler in tow. "Did I get a gift receipt? I can’t remember if I did. Damn it! I’d like to just shoot myself today."

Both moments felt like a sucker punch and momentarily took my breath away.

Photo via iStock.

We are so flippant in our language.

I am certain I was once guilty of it too. It’s so easy to make light of suicide — until it touches your life or the life of someone you love.

And then, you quickly discover, there’s not a single funny thing about suicide. Survivors of suicide loss spend much of our days dodging triggers. We sit down to watch a television show only to have a joke made about suicide. We deal with the drug commercials that lump suicidal thoughts and actions right next to hives and rashes when discussing possible side effects — as if they are even close to being on par with one another. We try to tune into election coverage only to hear words like "political suicide" tossed about.

Here’s the thing — if you can wake up in the morning, kiss your loved ones, walk outdoors and breathe in the fresh air, then there is no "suicide" in the demise of your political career.

We survivors are everywhere.

And there is nothing funny about the loss we are learning to live with.

So how about we stop treating it like a punchline or a reasonable response to a moment of frustration? Let’s treat it like the serious and painful issue that it is, an issue that claims another life every 12.8 minutes in this country and shatters the world of those left behind.

The triggers for suicide are abundant, and we dodge them all day long. But that places the burden on us. And quite frankly, our shoulders can only take so much before our knees buckle.

So please, take ownership of your words. Because I’m fairly certain a missing receipt or an ill fitting bathing suit is not something you would seriously end your life over.

And if they were, I promise you, it would be no laughing matter.

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