Sunday, January 1, 2012

Tall and Smiling

Yesterday, I attended the funeral of one the best men I've ever had the honor of knowing.

I met Mr. Al Fikse just before the start of my senior year of high school. That was when I got hired at Light & Life Christian School as an after school daycare assistant. I heard about the job opening because my little brother and sister were students at the school.

I don't remember much about the whole process of being hired... just that I applied, waited a day or two, and received the call that I got the job. I figure my application must have had that "WOW" factor because I don't remember being interviewed for the job. Or, maybe I did and I just forgot (it was a long time ago, after all).

As a daycare assistant, part of my work duty included waiting with students on the playground as they got picked up by their parents. Those who weren't picked up by 3:15, got a check mark next to their name to indicate that they would be staying on daycare. At 3:15, my job was to watch the students on the playground... along with about four other daycare assistants.

My first day on the job, I remember seeing this tall man on the campus. He seemed to know every student and parent. He looked like he belonged there, so I figured he did. I'm just smart like that. I learned later that afternoon that the tall man was Mr. Fikse, the principal of the school.

Principal? This smiling, engaging man was the principal? I thought a principal came into this world wearing a stern, disapproving facial expression and harboring an aloof personality. I was a good kid and never got in trouble at school, but my seventeen year old mind was programmed to view principals through leery lenses.

While my first couple weeks at Light & Life passed by in a blur, one memory stands out very clearly in my mind:

I was holding one end of a jump rope while several children were taking turns practicing their moves. Mr. Fikse was on the playground, as he often was. He happened to be passing by as I was saying to one of the students, "Wow! Good job!" Mr. Fikse stopped and said to me, "I like that you are so encouraging to the kids. Keep up the good work." (Or something along those lines).

For some reason, those words meant so much to me. It's as if what he said bounced around in my head like a little rubber ball in a small, four-walled room. From that day on, when I would see a student who looked as if he/she needed some encouragement -boing!- that ball would smack me on the neocortex and Mr. Fikse's words inspired me to take action. When I doubted my ability to do my job well -bonk!- Mr. Fikse's words encouraged me.

Of course, I had many interactions with Mr. Fikse in the ensuing years... many of which were equally uplifting. I think this memory is clear to me after all these years because it sums up so much of how he was. It didn't matter how busy he was, he took the time to offer encouragement. He cared about his students. He cared about his staff. He saw the good in people. He made people want to be better.

When I think of Mr. Fikse, I always see him as I saw him on that first day- tall and smiling.


1 comment:

Rachel said...

I'm not sure if this is your most recent post (I'm using my phone which hates helping me) but I'm glad this is the one that I read. He sounds like an amazing man and it sounds like he changed your life for the positive. I aspire to be like him- somebody who can make people smile and somebody who will bring joy to people years later.