My youngest daughter yammers away as I’m dropping off her older sister to youth group last night. I’m hearing all about math projects, music class, and the lunchtime dramas of a 5th grade girl. Then she tells me this:
“Mom, in music, Mrs. Begg asked us if we all had a success-maker in our lives. We were supposed to raise our hand to share who our success-maker was.”
“What’s a success-maker?” I say, distracted and focused on the traffic.
“The loving adult in your life who wants to make you a success. I said you were mine.”
She continues. “Some kids shared about their moms or dads, and one person asked if it was OK if your success-maker wasn’t alive anymore.”
“And some kids didn’t raise their hands at all, so Mrs. Begg said that if you didn’t have a success-maker in your life to email her any time of day, no matter how much time has passed–when you are long gone from elementary school–and that she would show up on your doorstep to be your success-maker.”
Long pause. I feel tears on my cheek.
“And she said that every child can ask an adult to take care of them and be their success-maker. And I was thinking that that’s the best thing to be for someone else.”
I couldn’t speak. I loved Mrs. Begg so much in that moment for the way she was a success-maker for our whole little elementary school. And I wanted to find every child I could today and say, “Do you need a success-maker in your life?”
And then I’d show up on the doorstep of her life to be that person.