Showing posts with label lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lessons. Show all posts

Friday, February 8, 2013

A Simple Act of Kindness...

I wish to take this morning to share something extraordinary that occurred as I was walking in to get my much needed dose of caffeine after a sunrises 6-miler...

It was the start to an ordinary Friday. Traffic seemed a bit sparse, the rain left the roads twinkling in the glare of the moonlight mixed with streetlamps, and I was rocking out to some serious Mumford and Sons. I was feeling a bit tired after waking up at 4:45am to tackle a long run with the lovely roommate, so of course a coffee stop on the way to work was inevitable.


Upon arriving to the Starbucks parking lot. I noticed an older man drive up and park his car in the handicap spot. I put my Rav in park, got out and walked past his Honda, noticing he didn't have a handicap sticker in his window. I immediately had the though, "Gosh, that's selfish of him" just before seeing him struggle out of the front seat, wincing and limping up onto the sidewalk to come inside. Strike One, Maxann...

I put my tail between my legs and walked into the coffee shop. The door was held open for me and the old man struggling behind me by another man in a pants suit on his cell phone. "Thanks" I told him. The old man behind me stayed silent. "Gosh, he seems ungrateful" I thought to myself again too quickly...

But something tapped my conscious as I got up towards the front of the line that told me to let this old man ahead of me. For what reasons, I couldn't explain... Hadn't I already made up my mind that this man was selfish ungrateful?  But I motioned toward the counter, nodded my head and spoke, "You can go ahead sir. I am still deciding." He looked at me, limping forward, and whispered, "Thanks", just before coughing into his sleeve. The man sounded like he lost his voice due to a cold. Strike two, Maxann.



The man ordered his coffee, I ordered mine, we both received our coffee and walked out towards the pavement. As I was crossing the lot to my car, the man turned to face me, we caught eyes, and to my surprise spoke soft and kindly, "I hope you have a great day, Miss. You just turned mine around by your kindness." I stood in front of him, bewildered and taken-aback. He smiled a weak yet pronounced, struggled into his front seat, and drove away.

The morals of the story are of two lessons learned in that short 10 minute interaction with this random man at a random coffee house on an idle Friday morning. Don't judge others. You have no idea where a person is coming from and the battles they've been fighting to get them to this place and in this time. And secondly, never be afraid to give a simple act of kindness to any one person. Whether that be holding the door, helping pick up dropped groceries, or allowing them ahead of you in the coffee line... it will mean something to some one- enough to make someone's bad day better. And there shouldn't be any other goal at the end of the day than that- to make an impact on a stranger. (Cross that off the bucket list!) 

Monday, January 21, 2013

What My Dad-Dad Taught Me...


Growing up on a horse farm was not always a cherished way of life like it is today. In fact- I can remember coming home from friends’ homes and asking my parents, “Why can’t we live in a neighborhood like *Ashley or *Josh?”  I wanted the cul-de-sac, I wanted the back-to-back yard whiffle ball games that lasted into the evening, I wanted the bike rides with friends. But most of all, I wanted the normalcy. The normalcy that I saw behind the lifestyle of those cookie cutter houses that bred socialites starting at the age of six...
 
But to my dismay (at the time), My brother and I grew up on a hill that overlooked fields of alfalfa and grazing horses. Neighbors were never seen conversing in the driveway nor were there ever group barbecues that people stopped by for a quick hello.



 But as time went on and I look back at this life style I grew up in, I can’t help but be ever so grateful for never reaching “normalcy” and aging with a developed desire to stand out. And although I never met the man, except for a month before his passing as he held me as a bundle of wrinkled skin and baby coo’s, I have so much thank my great granddad for all he has contributed to my life.


My Dad-Dad, Charles Keller II, was an extraordinary man. Even twenty-two years later, his presence in each and every one of the Kellers' lives is strong and humbling. You see, my Dad-Dad was a dreamer: A motivated individual that had a to-do list only fathomable by the very elite visionaries. A young boy, he dreamed of serving his country, playing baseball, living on a farm, moving to exciting cities and meeting incredible people.
Charlie went to the University of Maryland after growing up in a small rural town about an hour outside of Baltimore. Studying agricultural economics, he also found the love of his life- soon to be his wife- and played baseball for the university. In time, he found himself playing minor-league baseball for the Newark Bears until he made his way up to New York for his rookie season in 1939 for the Yankees. 

Interchanging his time between the Yankees and the Detroit Tigers from1939-1952, my Dad-Dad played out his passion and worked towards his dream. He left the diamond in 1944 and was gone much of 1945 as he took this time to serve his country in the Merchant Marines during World War II.
Before and after his military leave, Dad-Dad achieved a position in multiple World Series and accumulated an impressive batting average. Charlie (or King Kong Keller, as his teammates called him based on his massive power swing… or gorilla-like eye-brows) stayed busy bettering himself and his aspirations. 
Playing with headliners like Joe DiMaggio and Tommy Henrich, Dad-Dad met fascinating people. He learned of stories that lead to greater perspective. His travels and correspondences helped him gain an abundance of knowledge and understanding, some of which has been passed along to me through the generations that have raised me.
After back issues, my great-grandfather retired from baseball and made his way back home to Maryland. But his to-do list wasn’t yet complete. Now with a family and support from friends, Dad-Dad began what was soon to become his pride and joy. A standard bred horse farm on the outskirts of Frederick that he right-fully named, “Yankeeland.” It is here that he built a barn upon a dream that grew into a business. But more importantly, it spawned from a simple idea and a wild passion that evolved into a reality. 
 This is where he watched his family grow and learn the true value of hard work. My grandfather worked his bare hands here, my father still works this land, and I am blessed to still have the opportunity to plant my memories in the soil my great-granddad had sewn for this family.
I wished to share this with you for the soul purpose to reflect. It is possible to achieve all you set your mind to. My Dad-Dad taught me a lot: The power of persistence and the importance of dreaming, no matter how big these dreams may grow to be. He taught me that all success stems from sincere love and devotion for the people that enter our life to support even our craziest ambitions. He taught me that not one thing can be expected or given to us unless we are willing to risk failure and stretch our abilities to reach success. 

I can’t remember what age I was when I realized that I liked growing up where I did; that time period in which I knew that I never really wanted normalcy. Because had I grown up in normalcy, I would never have truly understood exactly what my Dad-Dad built our home upon- a passion for family, a passion for achieving… a passion for dreaming.

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