Reader Bonnie Winters sends the following reflection based on her reading of the December dispatch, “The Path of Love.” She makes her home in Cold Spring, Kentucky.

The Trina Paulus story about two caterpillars reminds me of relationships that often start out well but then break apart as each person grows in a different direction.

I am a retired counselor who specialized in working with those with relationship problems. Many were going through a divorce. I spent hours coaching these individuals through the grief process, trying to give them hope that things could and would become better.

It helped that I had experienced and survived my own relationship endings, including a thirteen-year marriage that ended in divorce. My then husband climbed the ladder of his career successfully, while I cocooned with two small children at home.

I loved my children and being at home, but I often felt myself frustrated and unchallenged. Growing apart from my children’s father had not been in my plans, but in retrospect I see how my divorce helped me grow. I went back to work at a nearby university. I started taking college courses and eventually ended up with two careers –– one in journalism and, later, one in counseling, both of which I loved. Those careers added purpose to my life. Now I see how I was able to wiggle from my “caterpillar” cocoon and became the butterfly I was meant to be.

Having gone through these changes made me both a better journalist and a better counselor. I learned how to observe the world. I learned how to listen with more empathy.

The breakup of any relationship is painful but often necessary. It is how we learn and grow. It is how we become butterflies.

Just as a change in a relationship can lead to our growth, sometimes just being ourselves is the best way to serve others. In other words, sometimes the good we do in the world may be quite by accident or may happen when we act in the spur of the moment.

I had one of those moment recently when I decided to take a box of my grandkids’ new and gently used toys and games to the local St. Vincent de Paul donation center. I was going to be lazy and drop the toys off in the drive-through line. However, that day the line was eight cars deep and moving slow. I decided to park and go into their food pantry next door to see about volunteering.

“I’m sorry you were supposed to sign up for help with toys back in September,” I heard the desk clerk telling the two woman ahead of me in line. One woman began crying, clearly distressed she might not get the Christmas help she needed. I tapped her on the shoulder. “I have a box of toys in my car you can have,” I said.

The woman two told me she was a grandma, raising her grandchildren. She was new to the area. Like so many, she was struggling financially, and the holidays were making it worse. After she and the other woman divided up the toys I had, she hugged me and started crying again. “You’re my angel today,” she said.

Now it’s been a long time since I’ve been called an angel, but that day I felt like one, the kind of angel who stumbles into the right place at the right time.

Very often I wish I could do more to a make a difference in the world. But I am beginning to see that small acts of kindness can be just as significant as any grand gesture.

Top Image: Pixabay/HeungSoon
Side bar image: Pixabay/Sabine van Erp