Small World, Big Impact: The Student

For the last several weeks now, I've been telling you about people who have impacted my life in big ways. They're not people you would know by name. They're not famous. They're ordinary people, living an ordinary life, but along the way, a little thing made a big impact.

I initially wrote these several years ago, but I've never shared them on the blog, so I've been bringing them to this space now and then, just to remind myself - and all of you - that the little things make the biggest difference.

This one is dear to my heart.

I'm ashamed to say I don't even know her name. I should know it. She spoke to me often. I knew her face when I saw her. But even though I don't remember her name, I've never forgotten what she did.

It had been a long day at work, and I was tired. Working in Financial Aid and dealing with thousands of dollars of people's money meant taking the brunt of their frustration and anger. Understandable. Education was expensive, and private Christian education was even more expensive. Back then, the students were paying close to twenty thousand a year to attend school, and my guess is now, it's another fifteen grand per year {or more} on top of that. It's obvious why many needed help, and it was our job to do just that. But as much as our office desired to do so, we never succeeded with making many of them overly happy.

Usually the parents called or came in to the office, all in a frenzy, demanding more help, threatening to pull their kids out of school or asking for special consideration. But now and then, the students themselves showed up with the questions. It was rare, but it happened.

And one particular day, a young lady walked in while I happened to be covering the front desk. She sat down and just unloaded every thought in her mind on me. I don't remember what she was upset about, now. Maybe she didn't have enough money, or there might have been a problem with her loan, or maybe something had been removed from her aid listing. But while I don't remember the problem, I do remember the verbal lashing I took that day. Whatever the problem, it wasn't my fault. She wasn't even my student. But I took the brunt of it, because I was there.

I was used to it, because it happened often, but that didn't mean it didn't sting. I tried to shake it off after she left, so it wouldn't ruin the rest of my day.

A couple of days later, she came back and asked for me. You might imagine why I cringed as I walked from my office to the front to meet her. What now? Did something else go wrong?

I wasn't prepared for what happened when I arrived at the front. It had never happened before, and I'm pretty sure it never happened again - at least from a student.

When I walked into the lobby area, she came up to me and said, "Do you remember me from a couple of days ago?"

I nodded.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know you guys do the best you can, and I know it wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have talked to you the way I did, and I"m sorry."

Stunned.

I knew students knew how to yell and complain. I had no idea they knew how to apologize. Dumbfounded, I thanked her.

I wish I could remember her name, but even though my memory has failed me, that young lady remains forever my Financial Aid poster student.

She came back to apologize. It wasn't easy. She had to swallow her pride and find some serious courage to walk back in that office and face me.

But that day, she became a fine example of how to be adult enough to say I was wrong. I'm sorry.

And that is a rare and beautiful quality.