The Power of One

Many years ago, I was a young, single mom struggling to raise a baby on my own. Times were really tough, and by "really," I mean the kind of tough that turns a trip to Wal-Mart into a special holiday and makes adding hamburger to Hamburger Helper a reason to break out the good china, if I'd have owned it.

I lived in a small Iowa town in an 800-square-foot house with a single wall heater stuck in the plaster between the kitchen and the living room, and a single bedroom where my son's crib covered nearly the whole floor. I worked at a veterinary clinic because I liked animals, but it was the people who made the biggest impact on me.

One morning, somewhere in between paychecks, I found myself pouring the last of our milk into my son's bottle. He was less than a year old, and a very, very picky eater, so one of his staples was toddler baby formula in milk. I watered down gallons of whole milk to save money: one gallon of milk became two, but we still went through it quickly because it was my son's favorite food.

All day long, I had a sense of dread. I didn't know what I was going to do when I got home from work. We didn't have milk, and there was barely any food in the house, and I'd scraped up just enough change to pay for gas to get to and from work until payday. I didn't share my concern with anyone at work because my stubbornness and pride has not ever held financial requirements, but there was a growing panic inside my head. I didn't know how I was going to feed my child.

Late that afternoon, when my work day ended, I headed out to my car. I still remember the weight on my shoulders as I got in and sat down behind the wheel. Deflated, I stuck the key in the ignition before I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. On the seat next to me sat a gallon of milk.

I nearly cried right then and there. I can still feel the smile that took over my face, and even though it was just a simple gallon of milk, a hitch of emotion still catches in my throat when I remember the relief. I smiled all the way to the babysitter's house, and it wasn't until I carried my son back to the car and opened the back door that i found another gallon of milk and five bags of groceries waiting for me. I did cry then.

I knew without asking who had helped me in my time of need. Carol, my boss' wife, had (and probably still has) the biggest heart for giving I had ever come across, and somehow she knew my need. I thanked her profusely, but she shrugged it off, saying she didn't do it to be recognized. Her kind act of selflessness has stayed with me all of these years, long after my circumstances improved and life evolved into something very different.

I still think of Carol and that jug of milk. She taught me that the best way to give is to do it when no one is looking, and nothing is expected in return. I have been able to pay it forward, and I know now that the reward isn't in the receiving, but in the giving.

The biggest lesson I learned, though, is that I am powerful, and so are you. Every one of us has opportunities every day to make a difference for someone else, and sometimes the smallest things mean the most. We all come with perfectly wrapped packages of help and hope just waiting to be given away, but sometimes we forget the impact we can have on others and the happiness we have to share.