Two things that should probably never be in the same sentence are Kay Wyma and cafeteria cashier. It has something to do with my Overtalkers Anonymous recovery program—kids waiting in a line with their food trays just wanting to pay and sit down don’t have much interest in chatting—and my technological challenges.
A couple years ago, our middle school cafeteria went the way of the computer. And after having worked the lunch line in cash days when we had to do the math in our heads—let’s just say I usually added a good twenty dollars at the end of my shift to help the drawer balance after all my mistakes—I’m happy for the electronic upgrade.
One of the nicest benefits of the computerized cafeteria system is that each time a student flashes their ID in order to pay for their meal from an online account, their picture and name pop up. So with every kid, I get to—by name—cheerfully yell after them, “Have a great day, Molly!” or Zack or Sam or Sally.
It’s middle school, I know. They don’t like to be called out or be the focus of attention, especially from a mom. But I still do it. I want them to hear their name. Said happily, positively. Sure, they might cringe on the outside, but at least for a moment, they can feel known in the sea of people. And the truth is I almost always see a faint glimmer of a smile as they walk away to find a seat. Some of the kids even stop and shoot me back an “I hope you have a great day too.”
People love to hear their name. It warms my own heart when I look up at someone who has said, “Hi, Mrs. Wyma,” and I see a friend’s kid smiling at me.
Dale Carnegie said, “Remember that a person’s name is to that person the sweetest and most important sound in any language.” Why? It means you’re known. And in today’s world, more than ever, people need to hear their names.
Did you know that there is a World Hello Day? Yes, there is such a thing, and it is annually observed on November 21. Anyone can participate simply by greeting ten people. The goal is to demonstrate the importance of personal communication for preserving peace.
Why not use today to practice? We can say hello to the people next to us and use their names. To the grocery clerk, to the fast food cashier, to the mailman, to someone. Just do it. And have your family do it too. A simple hello can make anyone feel a little better.
I have to confess that I am horrible at remembering people’s names. I know there are tricks and tips to help me remember things like names. I even took a continuing education course at the university close to our house so I could be better at remembering names. People really matter to me—and the very least I can do is remember their names. But truth be told, I kept forgetting to even go to the class. Maybe remembering is an aptitude. One I don’t have.
But even if I forget a name, God never forgets and he has promises attached to each name, for each of us.
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the Lord your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. (Isaiah 43:1-3, NIV)
Everyone walks into a variety of rooms wondering where they are going to sit. Everyone sees the napkin draped over a chair and feels the sting of rejection when it is being saved for someone else or breathes a sigh of relief when it is being saved for them. But a spot at a table or in a group isn’t what defines us.
Collectively, we can say no to handing over our identity and self-worth to a group. And simply knowing, trusting, and resting in the fact that sitting at a proverbial table doesn’t define us, we can actually sit anywhere and with anyone. And freedom is ushered in.
When getting in my car after working in the cafeteria, I noticed a reflection of the volunteer name tag I was wearing in the window. It contains my name, printed—not handwritten upon my arrival—along with my picture. This name tag does so much more than tell someone who I am. It tells the people I pass that I belong. I’m supposed to be there.
And on that day, it acted as a reminder of the much deeper and more significant belonging, the one spoken by God that spans eternity. Why not be overwhelmed by that?
Adapted from Not the Boss of Us: Putting Overwhelmed in Its Place in a Do-All, Be-All World, copyright 2018 by Kay Wills Wyma. Published by Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group. www.revellbooks.com. Used with permission.
Photo Courtesy: Unsplash
