Spreading the love

A dear friend and coworker of mine handed me a small slip of paper last Friday morning following our meeting and explained that her and her daughters were on a new mission. The piece of paper read, "Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier."

A profound quote stated by Mother Teresa. As I read it, I thought what an excellent message and I told her I should probably tape it to the dash of my truck so I can remember that when I'm yelling "moron" at the crazy driver in front of me. We giggled and then went about our business.

That afternoon my family left for the weekend for my daughter's last softball tournament of the season, which happened to be State. I don't really think the tournament is technically a whole lot different than any other tournament but you add the word "State" and have it be the last one of the year and suddenly it feels like the Olympics or something.

My point is, the competition is a little better and the drive to win is heightened when the word "State" is used. Definitely a little more tension in the air and a little less comradery between local Nebraskans, I'll tell ya that.

The weather at State was summer at its finest with close to 100-degree temps with what seemed like 208-percent humidity. Just taking a breath made you sweat. Well, the humidity and heat might have been a little more bearable if our team was winning but our poor girls just couldn't seem to pull out a victory.

As the losses mounted and the heat bore through me, I could feel my patience weakening with others. Mother Teresa's phrase "Spread love everywhere you go ... " was the farthest thing from my mind. I found myself glaring at the other "winning" team's parents at our hotel who were flitting around all excited for their next challenge.

I gave the evil eye to the lady hogging the concession line cause she couldn't decide between the Macho Nachos or the Gigantor Burger, and I about had to physically restrain myself from pummeling the loud-mouthed dad on our opposing team who kept bellowing at the top of his lungs, "Taylor! Taylor! Mess with Taylor, you'll die!" to our little 11- and 12-year-old girls. (Guessing Taylor was his fine offspring.)

Anyhow, I think my tongue has scars since I had to bite it so often and I'm pretty certain my heart rate and blood pressure reached a record high when trying to sit quietly in the bleachers while having several idiotic, probably half-schnockered parents, yelling at our struggling team. Let's just say I was absolutely NOT spreading love or making sure people left happier after encountering me. And, in fact, I had completely forgotten about the slip of paper with the inspiring message until Monday morning when I returned to work and saw it laying on my desk, staring at me like a big neon sign practically slapping me across the face.

I felt guilty for not applying the quote like I told myself I would and I quickly taped it onto my office wall so I would be reminded daily. I thought to myself that, as wound up as I get at sporting events, maybe I ought to get it tattooed on my hand.

But since I'm kinda too old for tattoos and it'd probably be expensive, I think I follow my friend's lead and print off a hundred different little pieces of paper with this profound quote typed on each one and keep these copies in my purse. THEN ... the next time I'm forced to sit by some ding dong who feels it necessary to crush the spirits of little kids in order to humor himself and his drunken buddies, I'll whip out one of these slips of paper and hand it to him with a big smile on my face.

Maybe even throw in a hug, making a point to spread the love!