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When I was in high school, I got a greeting card with the poem called “The Story About You.”
It taught about how even when I didn’t notice it, I was doing good for others.
When I didn’t expect anything to come out of my good actions, many “peach pits” (gifts of good will to others) still grew. I’d have forgotten about them as I continued my journey. I wouldn’t remember each action I ever did. But I knew if my heart was in the right place, they would be received right.
This poem always stayed with me as a reminder that I did good for this person and for others. That goodness is what greatness is all about. It’s about the little things.
What is something kind someone once said to you that you still remember?
What is a moment shared with a friend that you held onto all these years?
When is a time someone loved you when you didn’t love yourself?
These things others have done for you have stayed with you. And there are things just like this that you have done that have stayed with them too.
So be encouraged. Your peach pits are still growing even as you move onto other ones or forget about your kind actions. Someone out there is remembering you helped them once become the person they are today.
And if you like this poem, share it with someone who you want to thank.
“A Story About You,” by John Leroy Maxwell
Who in their life
hasn’t planted a peach pit
just hoping that somehow
a seedling would grow?
When’s the last thing you have done for someone else? Do you even remember it? It still matters now. The good act becomes a seedling planted in that person’s heart. It could be something kind you said or a gift you gave them. Can you think of one?
This poem details how even the seemingly insignificant things we do matter to someone.
Another part of the poem states,
You’ve planted ideas
and dreams unaware.
You’ve noticed somebody
whose heart needs attention
and planted a positive feeling in there.
It’s part of your nature.
You may not remember
the kind and encouraging
things that you’ve done…
are growing like crazy,
and people are blooming.
(I know it—I’m one.)
For the full poem, go here.