Musings Have you ever felt something was made just for you? That’s the way I feel about the redbud tree. The weather was sending me subtle indications of spring. Like an orchestra tuning her instruments in anticipation of the symphony to come, the cool morning air hinted at a welcome change from the cold winter wind, an intro into spring. Light green leaves were finding their way to the tall deciduous trees, with discernable hints and chords suggesting coveted spring neared. Unable to keep my eyes on the tasks at hand, I looked toward the redbud, still bare from its winter dormancy. Daily I would look her way, knowing, anticipating all she would bring forth. I love redbuds. They speak to me and encourage me with words unspoken. I anticipate their burst into song, but I treasure their gentle intro. We have three in our garden: one planted by me, one brought home, lovingly retrieved by my husband from a lot he was clearing (he knows me well), and one planted by a bird. Each blooms like a song’s welcome descant, flowing and reiterating the chorus so understood but never at exactly the same time. I always anticipate the redbuds. Around them are reminders of winter: brown grasses, beds which need sprucing, and plants begging for pruning. But the ugliness, the brownness, cannot compare with the anticipation of all that is to come. The signs begin to emerge. A tiny dot of pink here and there on the bare redbud’s trunk and higher limbs makes me watch more diligently. In no time larger blooms appear, not able to be contained to the tree’s extremities but instead bursting from every inch of her, trunk and all. Now in full bloom the redbud takes center stage. From a distance she looks like a spray of pink tutus on sinewy shaded watercolor painted stems, delicate and awesome at the same time, glorious for all to see. Everywhere there are color and expression, exuberance that she is born anew for all who will to drink her in. The birds, the bees and certainly any guests we have are drawn to her beauty. The bright cloudless sky compliments her costume, a perfect foil for her effortless stage presence. She never struggles or grunts to bear her beautiful bloom. Innately, gracefully with no dissonant notes, she simply reaches her peak. Too soon for me the blooms fade and begin their fall to the ground and water below. But her ways are not mine; her rhythm, I concede, is her own, or else her Maker’s. The blooms are carried by the wind and current to spread sprinkles of pink where there were none before. In a whisper, tender translucent pale green leaves appear. First their form is only hinted at. Then their heart shape reveals that it too conforms to the personality of this tree I so love. And as the weeks progress, the leaves strengthen and enlarge. Gone are the vibrant bright-pink blossoms. Transformed are the flimsy, easily crushed pale hearts. All is re-created into a marvelous canopy of strong heart-shaped leaves to shade those beneath her limbs. But the vivid life lesson taught me by God’s brush will last forever. In a little tree His painted testimony of all the hope that is within me surfaces. Several chapters emerge from the painted lesson, some deeply spiritual, others deeply personal. Like the redbud, I am created to bear new fruit for others’ edification. Our lives should bloom, shed, spread and tend with abandon to the needs of those under our canopy. Some days we must lie dormant; others we will burst into bloom unable to contain our little blossoms. When we must lead, we can. When we must shade, we cover with supple heart-shaped leaves which have matured into strength, yet retain their vulnerability. Some days we softly bloom; others we explode into bloom. Some days we are so tender that our hearts are pliable, translucent and easily crushed. Other days our mature strength shelters those who need our covering. But each day we are like the tree, unafraid to be used for a glory that’s not ours, for a purpose we don’t always understand, in a season not of our choosing, but perhaps simply so others can have the particular life lesson they too may need. Etiquette is and forever will be about others and not self. Etiquette is and forever will be about how we show respect for those others, all the time, day in and day out. Therefore, every business person’s opening statement is first a body language greeting and then an outstretched arm instigating a handshake. Ladies first If at all possible, wait for the lady to offer her hand first. A business woman always shakes hands, but many a non-professional and especially a lady raised in the South will not offer her hand at all. It is a time tested rule of etiquette that a gentleman waits just a moment until the lady offers her hand. If she does not, greet her instead with a small nod of the head and a verbal expression of her name. Web to Web, Firm but not crushing It is the web of the hand that engages the web of the hand, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Never should a gentleman or lady "shake fingers" as if communicating that the other has a disease in the palm of the hand. The handshake lasts no more than three seconds and is not enveloped passionately with the other hand. It is firm but not crushing and values those precious fingers wearing rings, not wanting the need for hand surgery. Eye Contact and Speaking your Name Look directly at the person you are greeting keeping your eyes on their eyes not anywhere else. Smile and volunteer your name if the person has any chance of not remembering it or certainly if that person has a higher rank than you do. In turn, the other person should also say his or her name enunciating and smiling in return. This is the time to ask the person to call you by your first name if that is your wish. Formality, however, shows respect by addressing someone by title and last name when protocol warrants that. We all meet so many people, and we should always reintroduce ourselves thus rescuing another from any memory lapse. Right Hand available We shake hands with the right hand, so we need to consciously keep briefcases, files and even drinks in the left. Freeing the hand readies it for the graceful handshake without having to stall as we shift things to the left arm. Sweaty palms I remember sixth grade ballroom class and the joys of dancing for the first time with young men (many of whom are Jacksonville lawyers and judges today). My hands would sweat, so I decided on a diann fix: antiperspirant on my palms! Oh dear! Well, that did not work, and the embarrassment of my little precaution still makes me blush today. If your hands sweat, give a quick hidden swipe of your hands on your suit before shaking hands. Works every time! Appropriate touching Handshakes are appropriate in the business world. Pats, hugs and the like need to be saved for that darling spouse who is welcoming you home at the end of the day. We’re professionals, and professionals always err on the side of conservative behavior. The proper handshake will never fail you or land you in court! There is nothing like a note to bring comfort to someone who has had a great loss. The note is often treasured, read again and again when the sad times flood the scene. If the message has come from the heart, each time the note is read it becomes more of a treasure. When you write the note, write it to strengthen the reader. Do not talk about your loss or your bereavement, but empathize with your friend’s loss. It is no comfort for your friend to begin worrying about you. Notes must always be handwritten on personal stationery. Business stationery should be reserved for a business acquaintance who only knows you through your business. Personal stationery is preferred as it suggests your personal relationship with the person or relative of the deceased. If you did not know the deceased personally, but you are writing to strengthen the one left behind, say so graciously. One doesn’t have to know someone intimately to know how grieved his relative must be. Write to offer comfort. Dear Sarah, We were so sorry to hear of your great loss. George was such a fine man, always the professional, always the friend. I still remember his kindness to me when I joined the firm. I was terrified at being hired as the first female associate. He invited me into his beautiful office, told me of his mother’s professional background and assured me I would be one of the greatest assets because of what I could bring to the table. He urged me to use who I was to strengthen what he had built. That day I stood taller because your darling husband gave me confidence. Over the years I saw him instill the same confidence in other new associates. I have a feeling behind the scenes he strengthened half of Orlando. Please know that we care so much about your loss. I’d love to take you out to lunch next month and will call to see when that is convenient. I’d love to hear a few George stories. He lives forever in all of our hearts. Sincerely, Nancy Smith A store bought sympathy card with only your signature added is inappropriate. Handwritten notes remembering something special about your friend is personal and a great help. Recollect the good times, but do that with tenderness. Never would you want your letter to reopen wounds which are trying to heal. Words saying "call us if you need us" are often hollow. Better, offer something you can do and then do that with kindness. Folks who have lost someone seem to experience a void once the crowds of well wishers have scattered. This is a great time for another note, a call, or dinner in your home. Remember the mourning process takes a very long time and giving your time and a listening ear will mean so much. Lastly, read and reread your note making sure spellings and handwriting are correct. If you did not write the note right after the loss, it is never too late to write. A person will need comfort for a very long time.
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