Last summer, when my California family arrived for vacation in Cambridge, England, severely jetlagged and completely exhausted, I ran into an old friend at the university complex where I would be staying for the next month. As my daughter and I were taking a walk to wake up before dark, Sherry burst out of her apartment with a big smile on her face and welcomed us with open arms.
She and I hugged and caught up for a while – my family had spent six months in the city the year before, so we became very close – and she asked me one simple question. . What little things can help you right now?
do not have: Can I do something for you?
do not have: How can I help?
Not terribly common and useless: Please let me know if you need anything. (Whatever??!)
But what are the little things that can help you right now?
Something about its specificity, its smallness, was a revelation.
If she had framed the question in a different way, I definitely would have said: we are fine! Thank you so much for asking! ”But given how direct her question was, I was like, “What? It was done Let’s make a small request. After 18 hours on a crowded plane and sitting in a long taxi ride from London, my daughter started begging for ice cream. But there was no way to get it without walking 20 minutes into town. we didn’t intend to do that. So I turned to Sherry and asked: Do you have some kind of ice cream in your freezer?
She went back to the kitchen and bought an ice cream sandwich. Words cannot express how welcomed, loved and cared for this made us. And I know that made Sherry happy too.
This simple question was a game-changer for me. We are often unable to solve our friend’s big problems, so we hesitate to try to solve them. How can I help my friend feel better about her divorce, the death of her parents, and her teenage child’s struggle to fit in? I’m not a therapist! I’m not even a magician!
But to me, we can all find comfort in providing something immediate and actionable in the moment. Sometimes all a friend needs is a walk. Salad drop off. To pick up the kids from school so she can take a nap. It’s a phone call. Cookie delivery. A shoulder to cry on for now. A book arrived at her doorstep. Coffee handed to me without a word.
What little things can help right now? In a time when suffering is everywhere, I have found this approach to be a guiding light. Shelly probably didn’t know that all we wanted on that beautiful July night was an ice cream sandwich sitting in the freezer. However, she met us exactly where we were and made our arrival very enjoyable. We returned to the empty space feeling not only welcome, but seen. There is no better gift than this.
That’s what I want more of in 2025. It’s about finding a way to show up for your friends and family in the smallest, most tangible way that makes them happy. Because when these small ways add up, they lead to something. In fact, they are all.
Abigail Rasminsky is a writer and editor based in Los Angeles. She teaches creative writing at the Keck School of Medicine of the University of Southern California and writes a weekly newsletter. person + body. She also writes for Cup of Jo on many topics, including marriage, preteens, and only children.
PS How to write a letter of condolence and what are some small pleasures?
(Photo credit: Duet Postscriptum/Stocksy)
Source: Cup of Jo – cupofjo.com
