Turning distraction into a powerful gift

I read a story recently by a mother whose daughter's school progress report held a “steady stream of positive check marks” but there was that one. The one with the teacher's comment — “distracted in large groups.” 

This was not news to this mom. Her daughter as a toddler was always offering “astute observations of the world around her.” When she explained to the girl about the mark, the child said, “I do look around a lot.” 

The mom jumped right on her daughter's remark — before she could feel any negativity. She told her how she does “look around a lot” and, because of that, she had noticed “Sam sitting off by himself with a skinned knee on a field trip, and you comforted him.”  

She had noticed that “our waitress was working really hard, and you suggested we leave a really good tip.” And that “Grandpa was walking slower than the rest of us, so you waited for him.” Her mother saw that “you notice the beautiful view every time we go across the bridge to swim practice.” 

This wise mom told her daughter, “I don't ever want you to stop noticing, because that is your gift. It is your gift you give to the world.” She could have lectured her about “that” check mark, told her to do a better job of paying attention. But she made it about the child — and what she had to offer. 

Everyone wants to be noticed, even the ones who say they don't. Not gushing attention but appreciation for something — maybe something very small. We don't, however, live in a noticing world. It's so often a condemning world. 

One of my favorite Bible passages is, “And seeing the crowds, Jesus felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and downcast like sheep without a shepherd.” He did something about what He noticed. He came to be the shepherd. 

This mother's story attracted me because I am a “noticer.” I think it is a trait that burrows in personality — and some have it more than others. But at heart noticing is not selective. If it has a maxim, I think it would be, “The more the merrier.” 

To be able to notice, and offer appreciation in some way, is a gift that comes from our own shelves. That's the beauty of it. To feel appreciated by those who notice is a joy that doesn't go away. An incredible thing seems to happen — that joy gets recycled into the lives of others. 

Noticing isn't just appreciation. It is also caring. One way I practiced this kind of noticing goes back to living in Minnesota. The power went out during a Twins baseball game, causing disgruntlement. That changed in a hurry when I learned a power pole a half mile down the road had been hit, and the young driver killed.  

I decided to honor his life by buying a flower basket and setting it at the site of the accident. All through the summer I bicycled down there and watered it. One autumn day his mom — I didn’t know any of the family — stopped and said, “I wondered who was doing this.” She had noticed my noticing — and it brought her comfort. 

Be that person who notices — and acts. Be that kid who “looks around a lot.” 

Carol Shirk Knapp is the author of "The Preacher's Kid" column.