Lunch

It was just lunch, but it turned out to be one that would change the direction of my life forever. I was in New York City for a work event down near Wall Street, but I arrived early and asked a friend to meet for lunch up around 86th street. He was the Rector of a local parish and always seemed interested in what I was up to. A man of faith, he was also innately creative, and I’ve always found that combination intriguing.

We talked about things before and during lunch, but as we waited for the check, he smiled, put both hands gently on the table between us, and looked directly at me and asked, “So, when are you going to decide.” I claimed not to know what he was talking about, but I did. He wanted to know if I was going to become a minister.

I don’t remember how I responded. I’m sure I stuttered my way through something, deflecting such an intimate question, as always, but when we said good-bye, I pulled my overcoat tight and began walking south. I thought I’d walk a few blocks before hailing a cab but ended up walking the length of Manhattan.

My boss noticed my red face and glistening eyes when I finally arrived. “What’s happened?” she asked. Again, I don’t remember my response, but I knew the look on my face was not just because of the long walk in the cold. I gave her my notice two weeks later and began a different kind of walk in a completely new direction.

A few days ago, the man I met for lunch died. While his obituary mentions countless achievements and honors, our lunch was not be mentioned. On the scale of all his accomplishments, it was just a lunch. For me, it was much more than that.

I feel blessed that I was given such a mentor, someone who showed genuine interest and sincere concern. So often, we focus on the big things people do, but it’s the small moments that sometimes make the biggest, most lasting, changes. A note, comment, or gesture can have more power than we can fathom.

Fortunately, I had the chance to thank him. As I expected, he didn’t remember the lunch nor what he asked. Maybe that’s as it should be. Forever, I will be grateful to him and look for ways I can pass that interest and concern to others. I invite you to do the same. I’m not sure there’s a better use of one’s life.