You Never Know-Mickey Baillargeon

When I was young, I had a Fairy Godmother of sorts. Her name is Mickey and she is the mother of one of my very good childhood friends. 

Mickey wasn't the kind of "Fairy Godmother" who waved a magic wand and turned pumpkins into carriages. She was far more magical than that. She had the ability to see people. Really see them. 

She saw me. 

During my elementary school years, I spent a lot of time at their farm. Mickey had a soft spot for me. She included me and all of my spaz-monkey neurodivergence. Good grief, most adults, including my own parents had no idea what to do with me. My sixth-grade teacher wanted me evaluated for "mental disturbances."

He had no idea what was going on in my home. Or that I had ADHD. One of the "most acute cases" the therapist who evaluated me, "had ever seen in her 21 years of testing." 

Mickey knew there was more to my story. She laughed at my jokes and told me I was pretty. Some of the best childhood memories I have are sitting around their kitchen table in the morning before the bus arrived, eating Wheaties with whole milk from the milk house and toast with real butter, listening to all of them talking about what the day had in store.

I used to love to watch her with her husband, Dennis, the hardest working man I've ever known, at the kitchen sink after supper. Mickey would wash dishes and I would often see Dennis walk up to her and pull her close to him. He looked at her like she was a star, the love of his life. She was. I think their eyes actually twinkled when they stared at each other. That's how I remember it, anyway. 

Mickey made me believe in true love. Mickey made want to marry a farmer.

Most importantly, Mickey taught me that you never know how you might influence or impact another person, just by being kind and nurturing toward them. You never know how much you might improve their outlook or build their confidence or teach them about love, if you just resist the judgement, we are fed every day about one another, to make room for compassion. 

You never know if you might be helping someone hang on for one more day. 

She's the reason I tell children they are funny, smart and beautiful. Because I remember how it felt when she told me. I remember the impact it had. 

Mickey is responsible for some of my very happiest childhood memories. I wonder if she knows that? 

Maybe I should go see her and tell her. 

More at hiddencottageatlinncroft.com