| | SOCCER BALLS AND DOLLAR BILLS
------------------------------------------------------------
Just when you think you know people well enough to expect what their next words out of their mouth are or what action they're going to perform, they turn it all around on you. You think you know, but you have no idea.
:rewind: It must have been about 2 months ago. I go to this park about a quarter mile from the house to do some jogging and sprinting for a little over an hour about 3 times a week. For the past 3 months, I've seen this soccer team manned by probably 11 or 12 y/o Mexican boys who practice at this park on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I don't know their team name. I don't know what city they're from or what league they play. When I'm running my miles, I look at the team practicing whether they're passing the ball to each other, playing an intersquad scrimmage, or just kicking the ball through two 6-inch cones. I think nothing of them. There is no attachment between me and the team except for the fac that we both work out on the same ground. In my opinion, I don't think they're that great. Mexican dads huddle together in their Mexican boots in the parking lot. I don't understand they say as they talk real low and quiet and speak in Spanish tongue. As I'm running past the parking lot, I flick my hand up about shoulder-high towards these men as a sign of courtesy and my acknowledgement of them. It doesn't occur to me whether or not they saw this small gesture or what they did in return. For I just see these men for about 4 seconds before they pass out of my line of sight. The next time I pass them, I just glance at them making sure they are out of my way. One Thursday, the soccer team wasn't there. But a soccer ball was. It was just standing there in the open grass right by a fence that I park my bike at. I looked around to see if maybe a kid was around that might have left there, but the park was deserted. I just kicked the ball to where the fence was and kept it by my bike while I proceeded to run my circuit. Maybe the soccer team would show up a little later than usual. But they didn't. When it was time to go home, I figured I should just leave it there because the soccer team would eventually come back and then they could get it back. But then, what if somebody else comes to get it before the team? With this in mind, I took the ball home. My first instinct was just to keep it at the house for my sister because she plays soccer. You never know when you'll need an extra soccer ball for anything. That night, I thought about how I saw various scenes on T.V. or in a movie where a person returned something to somebody and got an even bigger reward for it. That next Tuesday, I tucked the ball under my shirt. It actually looked like I was pregnant . . . that would explain the confused looks I got from people as they drove past me while I was riding to the park. It happened that the soccer team was there that night. I pull up short to where the soccer team was practicing and dropped my bike. On the ball, there was a faded, black permanent marker which had writing that said "Ricky Marija" all over the ball. In 5 different places. With my knowledge of how the dads talked, I figured that this was a Spanish speaking team and wouldn't understand a word I said. I approached the middle of the team as they were warming up. I said, "Soccer Ball!" "Ricky Marija." That's all I could think of that they would understand. One kid comes running over from the other side of the field with a little skip in his step. He reaches up for the ball and tells me "Thank you." Perhaps to me, the best thing happened right after that. I wasn't expecting any type of reward or gratuity from anybody. But as I was walking back to my bike, I heard the coach say something in Spanish, and everybody started to clap. Even the Mexican dads in their Mexican boots. When I started hearing the clapping, I actually stopped dead in my tracks and wondered if their clapping was for me. I turn around....they have all stopped practicing.....and clap for my returning of the ball. With all the thanks I have gotten from anybody in all my life for anything, this ranks up there. Now as I run past the parking lot, I stop and shake the hands of the Mexican dads in their Mexican boots. I ask them how they are all doing and smile. They don't have a quiet, low speech about them now. Turns out I just wasn't listening to them.....I was just hearing them. When I wave to them now, it's kind of like I'm waving to family. They respect me for what I did, and I respect them for what the team did for me. As I take my breaks in running, I notice a lot more from the team. Actually, I take it back. They are pretty good.
On another note, I was at work just last week. As I was stocking some food, this old lady reached into her purse to get some coupons out. As she was pulling them out, a five dollar bill parachuted to the bottom of the floor. I watched the whole scene from like 10 feet away. The old lady didn't seem to notice it had fallen....maybe her hearing was gone. Just kidding. She walked into the next aisle....and I had this puzzled smile on my face thinking that she was just playing a prank on me. To see what I would do. Turns out she wasn't. I picked it up, gave it back to her. I got something more though. She told me to keep the 5 dollar bill and actually gave me 2 extra dollars as a thank you for my generosity.
Just when you think you know people well enough to expect what their next words out of their mouth are or what action they're going to perform, they turn it all around on you. You think you know, but you have no idea. Maybe it's the act of surprise that brings out somethign in people to be generous. Sometimes, I think the best thing is to be honest with people. And appreciation. And when you get appreciated, sometimes you just can't quite find the words to say thank you for that appreciation. I think some people develop a sense of careness and understanding for other people that makes them do the right things. Before the soccer ball incident, I can't say I would've returned something back to somebody. I would've kept along the lines of "Finders keepers, losers weepers." Just when you think you know the ins and outs of how to treat people, you learn something new. It must have been about 2 months ago . . . . but this will stay with me for a lifetime. |
