Happy Holidays!
Mr. Rankle is the sort of person you’d want to avoid during the holiday season. He is as prickly as a holly bush and as ornery as a bear being awakened during hibernation. His age was a puzzle as the deep furrow etched between his brows made him look old, while his rosy, dimpled cheeks made him look young. But no matter his true age, he had long “gotten over” the spirit of the holidays which he brazenly huffed at every year.
Mr. Rankle, you see, had lost faith in the goodness of humanity and the magic of the season. His gruff demeanor and eye-rolling rebuffs ensured that any well-intentioned holiday greeting was met with a frosty reception. A smile directed at Mr. Rankle was met with eyerolls and grunts, a clear signal that warmth and merriment were unwelcome in his presence.
As much as Mr. Rankle committed to avoiding anything joyful, fate it seemed, had a lesson in store for Mr. Rankle. During the week of Christmas, his own cynical declarations about human selfishness were about to be put to the test. Blinded by his own negativity, he'd failed to recognize that his behavior had become a mirror image of the very traits he condemned in others. As it's often said that we judge most harshly in others what we fear or dislike most in ourselves, and Mr. Rankle was no exception.
As Mr. Rankle drove home in silence after a long day of work, eager to escape the "fake merriment" of the holidays, an unexpected traffic jam brought his journey to a standstill. Cursing under his breath, he flung open his car door to investigate the cause of the delay, anticipating a sea of brake lights and frustrated drivers. Instead, he witnessed a peculiar sight.
People were abandoning their vehicles and converging towards a point further down the road. Craning his neck, he spotted an overturned delivery truck, its contents, a jumble of packages, were spilled haphazardly across the road. "Vultures," he muttered, assuming the worst of his fellow humans, "probably rushing to pilfer those boxes." But Mr. Rankle, sheltered in his own cynicism, felt no obligation to intervene.
Just as he prepared to retreat into the isolation of his vehicle, a sound pierced through his cynicism: laughter. The sound seemed incongruous, even jarring, amidst a supposed frenzy of thievery. Curiosity, a rare visitor in Mr. Rankle's world, got the better of him, and he found himself drawn towards the scene.
As he approached, the sight that unfolded before him challenged his deeply held beliefs. Groups of people were indeed gathered around the scattered packages, but instead of looting, they were carefully collecting and stacking them against the overturned truck. A wave of realization washed over him. These people weren't opportunistic vultures, but rather good Samaritans offering aid. The air hummed with holiday music and even someone was offering decorated cookies to those helping, a selfless act that likely meant sacrificing a batch destined for a family gathering or holiday party.
Mr. Rankle didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t remember when he last witnessed thoughtful or selfless behavior, but then again, he hadn’t really been looking. As he moved closer to the delivery truck, he noticed that there was a package that had slid underneath one of the cars nearby. Although it was wrapped in brown packing paper it had a shiny green ribbon and small red bow on it. He reached under the car, and as he lifted it, he saw that it was addressed to “To Declan and Quinlynn Robinson, our wonderful grandchildren.” The return address was from “Lovingly, Gigi and Papa Robinson.”
Despite himself, Mr. Rankle smiled, only a small smile as a bigger one would have probably hurt his face, but nonetheless you could see a tiny grin. He realized that this package was mostly likely a present from loving grandparents to their grandchildren and that it was important for them to receive it. Mr. Rankle couldn’t have realized that when he got in his car today that he would have a chance to witness and be a part of the very spirit he so vehemently denied.
Mr. Rankle walked over to the driver who was seated on a lawn chair with a few others checking on him to make sure he wasn’t hurt. He heard a woman telling the driver that an ambulance had been called and he was assuring everyone that he was ok. Mr. Rankle approached the driver and told him that he had found a very important package. The driver looked at the package and smiled knowingly and stated, “a very important package indeed.”
The driver profusely thanked Mr. Rankle because he knew that if Mr. Rankle hadn’t found it, the present most likely would have been run over or lost and the grandchildren wouldn’t have received what looked like a thoughtful gift. As Mr. Rankle stepped away, he was offered a cookie in the shape of smiling gingerbread man. And for just a moment, Mr. Rankle’s face seemed to match the cookie’s grin.
Soon after, the ambulance and police arrived, and it seemed that all the packages had been collected and the driver was deemed ok. People retreated into their cars with smiles on their faces, cheerful waves to perfect strangers that had now seemed like close friends, and a few younger people blasted some holiday music and began singing. As Mr. Rankle drove away, he gave the other helpers a respectful nod, and you could even the slightest merry glint in his eye.
I can’t tell you that Mr. Rankle’s heart grew three sizes that day or that he was a truly changed man, but due to this experience he was able to feel a little more joy and merriment. This unexpected encounter may not have altered Mr. Rankle's entire being, but it ignited a spark of transformation within him that with some nurturing could create a lasting change. Witnessing the kindness of strangers opened his heart and set him on a journey to rediscover joy that had long been forgotten. By acknowledging the positives, Mr. Rankle began on a path towards seeing the good in others, recognizing the positives in unlikely situations, and connecting to feelings of happiness. Mr. Rankle can remind us that even small positive moments can have lasting impacts that can lead to greater improvements and joy.
And speaking of small joys and unexpected twists, there's a touch of irony woven into the very fabric of Mr. Rankle's story. As I embarked on my usual dog walk, phone in hand, ready to capture my thoughts for this blog (a habit I've cultivated), I encountered a rather unpleasant surprise, a pile of animal droppings, right beneath my unsuspecting foot. In a moment of clarity, I channeled my inner Mr. Rankle, not the grumpy version, but the transformed one. Instead of succumbing to annoyance, I chose to embrace the absurdity, laughing at the irony of the situation rather than allowing it to fester. After all, sometimes life's little messes are just opportunities for a good chuckle, or at least a slight grin.
Still not feeling the holiday spirit? Check out my last blog on how to bring more joy to your world.