Photo by Fr. Theophan

By Fr. Theophan
Rector
Saint Job of Pochaiv Orthodox Church

I am extremely lucky, or blessed by providence, if you will, I will admit that freely. I was born into a loving middle-class family and believed from the beginning that I could achieve whatever I put my mind to. I was encouraged to follow my heart into art school after high school. In retrospect that may not have been the wisest choice.

During college in Las Cruces, I was a courtesy clerk at a grocery store that was not the nicest of places. Let’s just say they found it necessary to hire a third-party security guard after dark. I pushed carts in 100°+ days, I cleaned the bathrooms and meat market, and I restocked the shelves and got price checks. It was tough. The store no longer exists (it was torn down a few years ago, and I smile just a little that I outlived it), but if it did, I’d probably still be working there.

After college I fixed ATMs and other bank equipment for ten years, because that is what one often does with a bachelor’s degree in fine art. I drove more than I actually worked, but the sun and heat (and the occasional hail) and the terrible hours of being on call, made for a miserable job. I found a way out, but it was a long time coming.

Even after making some bad decisions and living with them for a long time, I was able to recover and make a go at a meaningful life. I have a loving wife, three beautiful children, a purposeful and helpful calling, all in a setting and community that couldn’t be more pleasant, Los Alamos.

I am truly blessed in that way that people who do not have anything to complain about say they are blessed.

It would have been much harder for me to say that while in the midst of the consequences of my bad decisions. Even though all those things were blessings, and perhaps much more important ones. They started me on a path of obedience, patience, and humility (although I am still working on all of those).

We are truly lucky (blessed?) to live in a community like Los Alamos, the natural beauty, the safety and security, the enduring, if occasionally overbearing, industry of the lab, and the feeling of community pride are all special here. The things that are lacking or could be better should not color our demeanor.

When we complain publicly about empty shelves or boxes in the aisle in our way at Smiths, or how little there is to do in the evenings (which I will still fight you on), or the traffic patterns that add ten minutes to a five-minute commute, we betray our own darkened attitude. The people who hear the complaints are not those who can fix them. The people who do hear them are those who can do the least to correct them and those who need the most encouragement and kindness.

I was one of them, I remember, and I heard complaints all the time.

Now I’m in a position to either complain or to lift up. The best days of the job in the grocery store and at the banks, were the ones when the customers were pleasant. I still, 25 years later, remember those who actually learned my name.

The smallest kindness often makes a bigger impression than we can imagine. It costs us nothing and makes the world a better place. Let’s take the time to reflect on our perspective.