The More Noise You Make...

Believe it or not, I have a memory from those days, so many years ago, when I was an infant in the crib.

My bottle had run out of milk. I cried loudly. Soon, my father brought to me a new bottle.

Of course, that ran out and I cried again for me.

My father got out of bed and brought me another.

Realizing all I needed to do was cry a bit and my wish would be granted, I carried on until, upon the final trip, the bottle was filled with water.

I guess I had consumed all the milk in the fridge.

My infant mind had learned the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

Unfortunately, through the years, I have lost my ability to benefit from that learning.

In my Assisted Living situation, very often those who take my mealtime orders omit a portion of the order.

Rather than complain, I hold my peace. I think of what a busy day the staff are having and do not want to add to their stress.

Just this morning, I ordered cheerios and a muffin. The muffin never came. I said nothing.

Of course, this new strategy of silence has paid off as well.

We had a new staff in the cafeteria.

One day she smiled and handed me a handwritten note. She thanked me for being a blessing to her, and my attitude which helped her get through her day at work.

My blessing to her turned out to be a blessing to me.