“Mrs. Song! This would be such a good story for your blog!” I looked in my rear view mirror at Caroline and smiled. “You think so? I’m not sure I am seeing it yet.”

I chuckled as I sat in horrible traffic on 95 South, trying to get my daughter, Emily, and her five friends to a concert in Philadelphia. It was 7:03pm, the concert started at 7pm, and we were still three miles from the stadium in bumper to bumper traffic. It was supposed to be about a two hour drive and the trip was well over three hours long at this point. We had only moved about a mile in the last hour and we had just been dissed by a woman, possibly a character on Dance Moms, who harshly glared at us and kept driving as we begged her to let us into her lane. We were all a bit flustered by this unexpected traffic and it was good to laugh as we considered whether this moment was really “blogworthy” or not.

It feels a little overwhelming to think about writing on this blog every day for the next month, but I want to try. I hope that by simply being more open to seeing, I will start noticing blogworthy moments that I might otherwise miss.

This past weekend I drove to Charlotte, NC to attend a “Day for Writers” led by Emily Freeman and Christa Wells. I have no doubt that several of my posts this month will include some of the insights and lessons that I gathered and absorbed at this wonderful event. Today, however, I want to tell you how a woman named Sandy made a difference for me by simply being intentional.

Early Sunday morning, I walked bleary eyed into the hotel lobby and stopped by the front desk to find out where I could find some coffee. The woman behind the counter smiled and pointed me towards the Bistro where they proudly served Starbucks. I really didn’t want to go back to my room for my wallet so I asked if I could charge the coffee to the room. She asked for my name and room number, looked at my account and confirmed that I could definitely make the charge.  I thanked her, went on my merry way to the land of caffeine and enjoyed the quiet for a bit.

Later that morning, I had to ask another question at the front desk. The same woman happily greeted me and said, “It’s Lori Song, right?” I laughed and told her that I was impressed. Because I was.

Some people might say, “Well that’s her job. The hotel probably trains their employees to remember as many names as they can. Maybe no one else approached the front desk that morning so your name was easy to remember.”

There are people I have met four or five times and I still struggle to remember their names. Or I half listen as I am introduced to someone and then panic, thinking, “I have no clue what her name is.” There is a girl I see all the time, but I tend to get her confused with another girl so I rarely say her name, just in case I get it wrong. And how many times have you encountered a store clerk who seems annoyed or indifferent about your question or request?

Little things make a difference. No, world peace didn’t suddenly exist because the woman at the front desk remembered my name, but there was more peace in me that day and the ten second interaction caused me to think about how I could be more intentional with someone else that day. Never underestimate how powerful your actions might be.

When I checked out later that day, I thanked the woman for her help and asked for her name. I smiled and said, “Thanks for remembering my name, Sandy.” And she smiled back at me and said, “Well, thanks for staying at our hotel, Lori.”

I walked to the car and the first story I wanted to share with my daughter about the weekend was how much it meant to me that someone remembered my name.

This is day 2 of 31 Days – a writing challenge, every October, every day. Click here to see all of my posts.

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