And the moment I start to feel sorry for myself, there comes someone to put everything back in perspective.
I just helped a customer choose a card for her daughter’s birthday. She couldn’t decide between two designs and when she finally chose one, she told me that the other one would have been perfect for her other daughter who passed away. I might be a little emotional thanks to my monthly hormonal roller coaster but the pain in this woman’s eyes was too much to bear.
Here I am getting upset over something as unimportant as a ballet assessment when this woman will never see her daughter again. She will never hear her voice, hug her, laugh with her. She can only hold on to her memories and wait for the day they will be reunited. Now that is something to get upset about.