We all have those little things that rub us the wrong way. Some call them “pet peeves.” One of my colleagues during my teaching days got incredibly annoyed whenever her students would click their pens repeatedly during class time. My oldest son, Tom, could not tolerate the sound of me rubbing my hands together in the car on a cold winter morning. And for those of us who had the pleasure of taking World History from Fr. Raymond Pallas, S.J. at St. Ignatius, he used a common pet peeve as punishment for student misbehavior in the classroom. He would drag his fingernails down the chalkboard in the front of the room, causing the hair to rise on the arms of just about every student. Not surprisingly, I have a few pet peeves of my own.

For example, it drives me nuts when I hear people say, “Me and…” Yes, I was an English major at Santa Clara University, but there are many educated people who don’t seem bothered by that common grammatical error. I’m not one of them. 

Clutter is another one of my pet peeves. In years when I had to share classroom space with colleagues, I was annoyed when a room was left in disarray, or when the teacher left the room at the end of the period without erasing the board. It’s such a simple courtesy to leave a workspace neat, clean, and ready for the next teacher.

I didn’t need to wear corrective lenses until I was 42 years old. At that time, I realized that my arms were not long enough to hold an item far enough away from my face so that I could read the label. After twenty-six years of wearing glasses, one particular issue continues to bother me. I don’t like it when my lenses are dirty. Most often, I am the one responsible for the condition of my lenses, but now that I have grandchildren,… Yeah, I think you know what I’m saying. Sometimes, however, I just can’t get upset by the inconvenience of fingerprints on my glasses. Today is one of those days.

Penny and Scarlett arrived around 7:00 this morning. Kathy, with a little help from me, takes care of the girls in our home four days each week while our son, Steve, and his wife, Morgan, go to work. It is a labor of love, but it’s not always easy. The challenge of caring for the girls is far outweighed by the experience of unconditional love we receive from them.

This morning, I was asleep in bed when the girls arrived. I heard them come in, but I wasn’t ready to get up yet. A few minutes later, I sensed that Penny was standing next to the bed. I kept my eyes closed. I was wondering what she would do. In the most gentle way, she said, “Good morning, Papa!” I slowly opened my eyes and gave her a big hug. “I want you to come downstairs,” she said. So, of course, I got up.

As I got out of bed, Penny walked over to the dresser, picked up my glasses, and brought them to me. Not surprisingly, her fingerprints smudged one of the lenses. It didn’t bother me at all. “Thank you so much,” I said to her. Penny smiled, then brought my slippers to me.

Is it possible for a day to begin any better than this? Sure my lenses were sullied, but I didn’t care. I was so grateful for the tenderness with which Penny cared for me this morning. I’m feeling especially blessed today.