*name has been changed to protect privacy
For ten years I thought of him every day, but yet I never thought to look him up. The only former students of mine that I happened to hear from were the ones that had looked me up.
Then all of a sudden, it was important to how Kyle* “turned out.” Reader’s Digest was going to publish our story and the editors wanted to know what Kyle was doing now. It had been ten years since I last saw Kyle, and I had moved several times since then. I told the editors I was sorry, but I did not know where or what Kyle was doing now.
Then just before the article went to print, I was asked Kyle’s actual name. Over the last decade, I thought of him only by his first name – which happens to be very unique. But for verification purposes, the editors at Reader’s Digest needed to know his real name.
I typed his first name in the reply email, and then embarrassingly, I drew a blank. After several minutes of racking my brain, I realized his last name would more likely come to me if I stopped thinking about it. I set the email inquiry aside and went back to a piece I was writing.
Minutes later, like a neon sign suddenly switched ON, Kyle’s last name vividly displayed in my mind.
But before I responded to the editor, I knew there was something I must do.
With shaking hands, my fingers hovered over the keyboard; I was finally going to know what had become of Kyle. For a brief moment, I hesitated and imagined what I hoped might appear—maybe an employee of the month recognition, a game-winning touchdown, or a third place finish in a pie-eating contest. Any of those achievements be quite grand for the boy with intermittent explosive disorder – the child who didn’t know how to accept or express love until I entered his life.
But alas, none of those achievements happened for precious Kyle. Instead, three clicks of the mouse brought me to Kyle’s recent mug shot.
“No! No! No!” I cried at the sight of the heartbreaking photo. Never did I believe any of my beloved students, no matter how tragic the circumstances of their lives, would ever be incarcerated. I quickly closed out the Internet window and slammed my laptop shut.
Make it go away. Make it go away.
But I knew that particular image, no matter how hard I tried to forget, was now a permanent memory. The grown-man version of the boy I used to know with sad eyes and broad shoulders was now even more lost, even more broken than before.
With my face still wet with tears, I abruptly stood up. I couldn’t just sit there. I had the overwhelming urge to make the two-day drive to his city, walk straight into that jail and shake the answers out of Kyle. “Why? Why would you do something so foolish? Why would you throw away your life?”
And then like a butterfly that rests upon your sleeve for only a moment, the anger lifted. Suddenly I was hit by a wave of regret that made my stomach ache. I wrapped my arms around my mid-section as the “if only’s” pelted me like gravel being kicked up by an unstoppable force.
If only I had tried …
If only I had more time …
If only I had stayed …
And in those agonizing minutes of regret, I allowed myself to undo every good thing I had done for Kyle. Seeing his mug shot surely meant I failed him.
But that was wrong. I knew it was wrong.
Before I let myself go too far down the damaging path of regret, my loving inner voice reminded me of the power of presence:
You showed up when you didn’t know if he was going to spit on you, destroy the classroom, or run into the busy intersection. You showed up when he never smiled, when he told to you F off, when he told you he didn’t care if he lived or died. You were Kyle’s one constant, the first person in his life he could count on. Just because Kyle made a bad choice with his life does not mean the love you gave Kyle didn’t make a difference.
I had to believe that the unconditional love I offered Kyle was not a waste, that my belief in him was still with him somewhere deep inside. But yet, the outcome of his life perplexed me. This was not the way the story was supposed to end. Kyle was sitting in a jail cell while other students that once had equally troubling issues were fixing cars, writing books, and acting as mentors in a youth group. What had been the difference? Why not Kyle? The question hung on me like a heavy drape, weighing down my spirit until I could find a resolution.
A few days later, my daughters and I had the opportunity to help a dear friend who was going to take supplies to a shelter for homeless women and children. My children and I volunteered to make goody bags with hygiene items and treats for the residents. My oldest daughter used the shelter’s online “wish list” to choose appropriate gift items at Wal-Mart. My youngest child chose five types of candy to include. Together we stuffed the colorful bags one Sunday afternoon.
Later that night when I looked at the mound of cheerful packages, I realized something was missing. I felt there needed to be an inspirational note attached that could be posted next to the resident’s bed after the treats were eaten and the hygiene items were used up. I envisioned the encouraging note traveling from place to place in the pocket of its recipient. Perhaps it would become worn from too much handling—a go-to phrase to cling to times of doubt and uncertainty.
I couldn’t settle on just one empowering phrase for the notes, so I wrote several. I felt certain the right message would providentially find its intended owner.
My six-year-old daughter came into the room while I was securing the uplifting messages to bright paper. Thanks to her new proficient reader status, she felt compelled to read all the messages aloud:
“You matter.”
“You are important.”
“You are beautiful.”
“You are strong.”
“You are a beautiful light.”
“There is hope.”
I must admit, there was something profoundly moving about hearing my child declare such empowering statements. With great joy, I realized these phrases were not foreign to my child’s lips or her heart. She had grown up hearing these words and now they were a part of her fiber—affirmations that were as familiar as her own name.
My oldest daughter was beckoned from her room by her little sister’s uplifting proclamations. Curiously she asked what we were doing to the goody bags because she thought they were finished. I explained that I thought the bags needed an inspirational note.
My older daughter quietly examined each small sign. After thinking for a moment she explained, “These people need these words now because they never heard them when they were kids.” She then cradled one pink bag in her palm and spoke in a soothing, quiet voice as if talking directly to its recipient. “But it’s like not too late to hear these words. It’s never too late to believe you are worth something,” she whispered.
Suddenly, Kyle’s mother flashed before my eyes. She only came to school once, but I would never forget her face. Without saying a word, her eyes bore through me with intense anger. I remember thinking to myself, “Well, that explains Kyle.” I had no empathy, no compassion for this woman, only contempt for the way she neglected her son.
But I wasn’t a mother then.
I didn’t know how hard parenting could be.
Especially when your child has many needs … when you have other children to care for … when money’s tight … when you have few skills and little knowledge … when it’s been one bad turn after another … when you grew up hearing, “You’re worthless. You’re stupid. You’ll never amount to anything. You should have never been born. ”
Kyle’s mother needed compassion, guidance, love, and encouragement just as much as her son did.
I didn’t see it then.
But thank God, I do now.
So when I see a parent with that haggard, hopeless look in her eyes … or I run into a neighbor with that look of sheer frustration because it’s been ‘one of those days’ … or I see a parent brusquely snap at his children in the parking lot then look away in embarrassment, I will offer a smile of understanding … an “I’ve been there” expression … an extended hand … a helpful offer … a word of encouragement.
I will do these things in honor of the mother who once looked at me with anger.
But it was really fear.
Because she didn’t know how to help the boy she loved so much.
What I wouldn’t do to go back and time and say,
You matter.
You are important.
You are a beautiful light.
How can I help ease your burdens, dear one?
Because now I know: Reaching out to help a parent means helping a child. When love is given at the top, it eventually trickles down and has the potential to lift them both up from the depths of despair.
And it just might be enough to change the way the story ends.
****************************************
The day we were shopping at Wal-Mart for the residents at the homeless shelter, my husband approached my daughters and me at the checkout line. Displayed in his hands was my family’s first glimpse of Kyle’s story in Reader’s Digest. The expression of awe and pride on my children’s faces when they saw their mother’s photo in a magazine is one I will never forget. That moment was the start of many wonderful experiences that have come from being published in such a widely-read publication. Many people who have their own “Kyle” have reached out to me and inspired me greatly. It has been a true blessing to know that Kyle’s story brought hope and compassion to those who love and teach children with challenges. It was difficult for me to share what I recently learned about Kyle, but I still believe the patience, effort, and love I poured into him was not wasted. And through this experience, I now know how I want to react when I cross paths with a parent in need of encouragement and compassion.
If you have any thing to add on this topic, I cherish each and every comment written here. Thank you for allowing me to share my journey with you, dear friends of The Hands Free Revolution. You matter. You are important. You are a beautiful light. Together, there is hope.
My children holding the April 2013 edition of Reader's Digest with Kyle's story.
Perfect, as always. The one line that hit me hard was “I had to believe that the unconditional love I offered Kyle was not a waste…”
Hope. It’s what we do, what we have to do.
I once wrote that “a hope is always a prayer.” It was one of those rows of which words we are given from outside ourselves and I take no credit for it.
Your words always seem like that, so grace-inspired.
Congratulations on the RD article, I think my soul sang a little when I saw the cover. I’ll see you at your first book signing, I promise.
Bill, when I read your comments I always think: “His comments are worthy of publication.” Truly. Your words are art. I love what you say about the words that come from outside yourself and you cannot take credit for them. Oh, how I understand that experience. I feel incredibly blessed and sometimes a bit guilty when given such beautiful encouragement for the messages that are divinely placed on my heart. Someday I look forward to thanking you in person for your continued belief in my messages and for your unwavering support. Thank you for leaving your lovely gift here today.
in my job, i work with ‘behavior’ kids. i have 11 that i work with daily, but a few that require much more work than others. i have 1 or 2 from years past, who i have heard are in and out of juvie. it pains me so much. they had so much to offer the world, but did not get what they needed from their parents, mental health services, etc. to be an asset to society. i have to hope that in the future, it will happen for them. i know i did my part, even if it was just saying good morning and giving them a smile and hug on the way in to school. they do matter.
Thank you for sharing this, Shelby. This notion really spoke to me: ” … even if it was just saying good morning and giving them a smile and hug on the way in to school.” Yep. Those little daily gestures of love and acceptance often mean more than the big ones. Thank you!
Wow, the only blog I subscribe to, but I’m sure glad I do. You know love and understand people. What they need is not what they appear to need. Love the wisdom that comes from your posts! You no doubt will make the world a better place!
Thank you, Pam. What a compliment! I know there was so many beneficial and well written blogs out there! Thank you for lifting me up with your loving words.
I am a new mom to a wonderful, healthy little boy. Who nonetheless drives me to tears and levels of frustration I never imagined possible. There are days when I wonder how the universe allowed me to be responsible for another life, it is so obvious to me that I just don’t know how to do it. On many of those days, your words have pulled me through. Given me hope, filled a hole in my heart, helped me to once again find my smile and love. Your strength is amazing, and I am in awe. I hope that I can someday possess such an amazing gift and pass it on to my little boy. Even more, I hope that I always remember to tell him how much he matters and is loved. Thank you. For your kindness, your wisdom, your strength. Thank you for being a light that helps guide me through the darkness. Thank you.
Love and light to you, Tina. What a beautiful comment that I will refer to often when I need encouragement. I am so grateful.
I always love reading your posts, which are like perfect nuggets of inspiration, spiritual awakening, compassionate understanding, I could go on and on…. Your writing provides hope for humanity and proves to me that one person really can make a difference by radiating love and mindfulness at every opportunity. Thank you, as always, for sharing!!
I am so blessed each time you leave a comment, my friend. I am so touched by what you gain from my blog. Thank you! Thank you!
I commend you for writing about “Kyle”‘s current situation. It would have been easier to just let everyone believe in that perfect happy ending. But in reality, regardless of how much good we put out into the world, or into someone’s life while we are in it, sometimes their ending is still bad. But that doesn’t mean we should stop trying! Maybe the next person we help will be a happy ending.
I have to admit, though, that I wish Reader’s Digest would buy you a plane ticket to see Kyle one more time. Wouldn’t that be an interesting story?!
Thank you for recognizing that it would have been easier to not reveal Kyle’s current situation. This was definitely a hard one to hit “publish.” But as I read the comments so generously left on this post, I realize it is so important to share our hurts and our triumphs. When we do, there is hope. I am grateful to share this journey with you, friend.
As an NICU nurse I work with drug withdraw babies sometimes, their cry is horrific, it is high pitched and they shake, and sweat, and get diaper rashes from explosive stools until their bottoms are raw. It is AWFUL. However, when their mamas come to visit I try and offer an extra dose of compassion. Something happened in their life to make them do drugs, people don’t wake up and say “Gee, I want to ruin my baby’s life, I think I’ll go shoot up some heroin!” I am not saying it’s not their fault, or poor them, I am just saying one bad decision leads to another and then before they know it they are in too deep and can’t climb out alone. Most of the mothers are in programs trying to get clean, and often they relapse, and that is truly awful- But they are still humans and somebody has to love them, even when they don’t love themselves. Hopefully a little of my kindness maybe encouraged some mama to stay clean. I am thankful for teachers like you Rachel, who are on the other end loving on the children- and parents.
Beautifully said, Karrie. I was one of “those moms”. You are a gem.
Thank you, Beth. You are an inspiration, dear one.
Thank you, dear Karrie. I feel uplifted just reading about the way you treat those mamas. I have no doubt the way you treat them makes them take pause, makes them feel okay, if only for a moment, because you are treating like a human being worthy of love and kindness. You are a gem. How blessed I am to have you here reading and sharing this journey with me.
Hi, I was thinking of Elisabeth Kubler Ross and what she said about how lacking we are in unconditional love in modern society. Check out this talk she gave in the 80s
“Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross – Understanding death & suicide – part 1”
It does make a difference but we never know where we’d be without it.
Thanks,
Liz
Thank you, Liz. This sounds intriguing. I will definitely check it out.
Rachel,
It was the Reader’s Digest Article that brought you into my life and my hunger to read more of your inspiring stories and words of wisdom. What a truly amazing addition to a story that touched my heart. As a former teacher, like you, I have always wondered what direction life took some of my students. One boy who came from a home that left him with a troubled life blessed my life forever. I was fortunate to have Tim in my first, third and sixth grade classroom. After graduating from high school he fell into trouble with the law and spent 15 years in a Texas prison. While in prison he contacted me through a letter. He brought tears to my eyes when he wrote, “Dr. Mr. H. I am so sorry I let you down……” He went on to share with me he would be out of prison in three years. Several months later I went to see him in prison and that emotional experience lives with me forever. Tim’s life in the prison enviroment still goes on, however in a much different way. After serving his time, he now serves as a Prison Chaplain in Colorado, just 35 miles from home. Rachael……”YOU MATTER! YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A RAY OF SUNSHINE IN KYLE’S LIFE.” My prayer is you will have the opportunity to cross paths with him again.
Lloyd, I am so grateful Reader’s Digest brought you to my blog! Your comments are so uplifting to me! I am so touched and inspired by the story of Tim! One person can make a difference, can’t he? I am in awe of your presence and support in Tim’s life. And to know what he is doing with his life is just beautiful! There IS hope! There is hope. Thank you for letting me know that I will always be a ray of sunshine in Kyle’s life. You have brought me to tears. I pray I will see him again. Thank you for sharing this journey with me!
I have a Kyle in my background too. When I was a graduate student in psychology, I worked with a very injured (emotionally) teen. I tried to do what you tried to do.
Your post made his first and last name appear in my mind — and I, too, googled him. And my heart sank to see a mug shot.
AND — when I looked further, I noticed that the charges were all from many, many, many years ago — probably the first five years after I worked with him, but none since then. I choose to have hope that the work I did with him was able to help him take advantage of support he might have gotten in jail to truly turn his life around. I hope. I hope.
Thank you for sharing your story. I feel so comforting in knowing we are not alone in these types of pains we experience when we extend our hearts, time, and effort. I am with you in that same hope about your former student. Let’s hope the hard times are in the past and he found that belief inside himself that he is worthy of happiness and goodness in life.
Rachel, I LOVE your posts…I always share them on Facebook..I thought that this story was going to end with you sending him one of the care packages that you put together…words of love and encouragment do go such a long way.
Thank you for your words, and for sharing them, they truely are life changing.
Many Blessings to you and your family
“Reaching out to help a parent means helping a child”
Man, it is amazing how important this is. The only problem is time. Just like any disease or illness, it needs to happen sooner rather than later to really affect change.
I have been gone for a long time, and I miss HFM. A real spell crafter. There are lots of things that HFM have been bringing to you. Hopefully, you can one day find a way to offer things to people here. Books, classes, anything. There is too much good to let come out at the trickle pace of blog posting. ;0)
Hi Seamus, I am relieved to see your comment! I thought I had lost you as a reader. I always enjoy your thought-provoking comments and beneficial insights. The value you see in my writing is very affirming to me. The book will be coming soon! I can’t wait to share more details in the weeks to come.
I could SO relate to your thoughts about Kyle. Working with at risk families over the years, I did several things that wouldve been considered crossing boundaries. from filling gas tanks to buying subway cards, I wondered how much good I was doing. i was guided by more of my religious principles than anything…feed the hungry, serve, serve, serve. i dont regret it..but i wonder. And now that many of those kids are in school, I think, did I really make a difference at all? Did anything I say really sink in to those teen parents? maybe it has to be enough that for that moment in time, whatever we did made a difference for that day. What I came to realize is there were just too many external things out of my control, that would contribute to situations. Very easy to believe that this cancels out all our efforts..but it doesn’t. your special Ed kids (and your own!) were/are very lucky to have you!
Oh Ellen, this is GOOD, GOOD stuff. You raise so many hopeful points. I love this: ” … maybe it has to be enough that for that moment in time, whatever we did made a difference for that day.” Yes! I always set the bar too high. Maybe just being there for them in their HOUR of need is enough … maybe that did make a difference. Oh, I believe it. I really, really do. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It brings me peace.
A really inspirational message to those who strive to help others no matter what circumstance. Without those caring individuals, our society would be much much less. All of us must reach out to the victims of economic, social, psychological deprivation and do so without any thought that our efforts will be successful.
Bless you for sharing and for your exception gift of empowering so many helping people.
Thank you, Dad. Your lifetime of work in the field of social work taught me that one person can make a difference. And the work of loving others is one of the most honorable professions under the sun. I love you.
Love it! I have loved many Kyle’s in my life as a social worker. I’m reposting this on my Mommy, LCSW Facebook page!
Thank you, Rachael. When people share my work, I am so grateful for that gift. Btw, my mom, dad, and sister are all social workers. I have seen firsthand that what you do as a profession is life-changing and makes the world better, my friend. Bless you.
and just because he’s incarcerated doesn’t mean he was not, or still is not, worthy of that love you showed him.
Thank you for this beautiful story. I have to be honest the parents can often be the most challenging part of my job as a teacher. But offering them compassion and honoring their humanity / journey is important too! I see that anew. Thank you for this post!
Hello Rachel,
I just read your Reader’s Digest article, and want to thank you for sharing your experience with Kyle. The fact that this troubled child took your hand and told you he loved you tells me you made a monumental impact on his life, in spite of his current, unfortunate circumstance. Your compassion inspired him to express the deepest of human emotions that, prior to meeting you, he had never known. I remember years ago reading a Buddhist quote that said, “If you find the Way in the morning, and die that night, your life was not in vain”. I sincerely believe that your efforts were not in vain, and that, deep in his heart, Kyle must also feel the same way.
Dear Ron, you have blessed me today with your thoughtful and eloquent words. Thank you for taking the time to point out the miracles in Kyle’s story because you have reminded me of how far he came while we shared that special school year together. Thank you for sharing the Buddhist quote. That is one of the most beautiful sentiments I have ever read. I know I will always remember that. Thank you so much for the gift you have given me today.
I’ve been reading your blog since January and it always gets me choked up. I’m a mother of two and I do Biblical counseling with young adults. Your post reminded me of a quote I love from a book called Counsels to Parents, Teachers and Students. “We are living in a hard, unfeeling, uncharitable world. Satan and his angels are using every means in their power to destroy souls. The good that a teacher will do his students will be proportionate to his belief in them. And let the teacher remember that it is the most unfortunate, those who have a disagreeable temperament, who are rough, stubborn, sullen, that most need love, compassion, and help. Those who most try our patience most need our love. (p. 267) Thank you for illustrating this concept in story form. You give these principles arms and legs and a heartbeat…you make theory alive into reality. Thank you for that example.
Wow. That is beautiful, Hope. I will treasure your words. Thank you for this gift today.
I can only imagine how much it hurt your loving heart to see Kyle’s photo as a mug shot, and have your images of him as a little boy changed forever. Just remember that you DID make a difference, and it was up to him to make the choices later. I’m sending a little love out to him, and to you, right now.
xo
Once again your post touched my soul. I used to work at an elementary school with an exceptionally high poverty rate. Most kids had at least one parent serving time or who leaned on “pharmaceutical enhancement” to get through the day. It could be a heartbreaking place to work but not one person who worked there would leave. We LOVED what we did even when it wore us down. Sadly I see some of those kids pictures today in mug shots or read of their actions in the local paper. Still, there are those bright spots that emerge & kids graduate, go to school, marry & have families. One thing I learned working there was I can’t fix every broken child or their parent. What I can do (did do) was do what I could when I had those people in my midst. I encouraged, I loved, I cleaned up, I fed, I hugged, I listened….and I prayed for them when they went home. Just being someone who was there, who believed, who wanted more for them…it MATTERS…It really does. And you did that for Kyle & a part of him will always remember it.
Thank you, Jana. Your words brought me to tears — happy ones and grateful ones. Thank you so much for taking the time to write.
I just found your blog and have been reading thru and each one touches my heart! You are an amazing person and gifted in so very many ways! I can only imagine how your heart sank to see Kyles mug shot, but you have to know that God put you in his life at a time when he needed you most and who knows what he would have done or how much worse his life or actions might have turned out if you had never been in his life at all. You may have felt as if you didn’t do “enough” but perhaps you did far more then you realize! And maybe one day, if you feel it is okay to do so, you could send him a note to let him know you have thought of him often and still believe in him and maybe send some of those wonderful words of hope to let him know he still matters to someone.
You are truely a blessing to your family but also to those that read your words and feel inspired to do better themselves.
I recently re-read your story in “Reader’s Digest” and decided to check out your website. When I read this piece, I kept looking for a positive ending to Kyle’s story. It was never there. This young man could certainly use some words of encouragement from somewhere! If he ever has children of his own, he will perpetuate his own story in them. It occurred to me that all your readers and friends could come together with you for Kyle’s benefit. If each of us sent something encouraging, uplifting and held out a hand of love and friendship to Kyle in some small way, I know I would feel better about the situation. Would it ensure a happy ending to Kyle’s story? No, but it might! That’s all anyone can really hope for. If I were in his situation, I know I would appreciate seeing a kind, compassionate face from my past, along with cards and letters filled with encouraging words. It might even change my/his life. What about including some of those goodies wrapped up in colorful paper, too! It’s just an idea from someone who believes we can all make a difference. We could all mail our contributions to you and you could send them to “Kyle.” This way, he would remain anonymous – another thing I’m sure he’d appreciate about you!
Rachel,
Thank you for being one of those who reaches out to others.. I was one of those kids like Kyle.. I lived in a home where love was never shown.. Very abusive home and it continued on into foster care.. What that does to a child is make them feel there is something wrong with them. Until someone like yourself comes along and offers them some hope that they are worth loving. The effects a home life like this leaves can carry on into adulthood but I promise you Kyle remembers the one who took the time to show him love.. I was one of those and do remember those who along the way showed me I was worth it.. Which in turn lead me to Jesus who showed me I was worth it when He died on the cross for me.. Keep reaching out to others. You never know what a difference you are making