you look great today.

This woman has no idea how her words affected me.

She’s basically a stranger to me.

Monday mornings are the busiest mornings of our week.

It’s our home school co-op day and that means a substantial shift in the morning routine for us.

Six kids need to be out the door and in the car by 8:15.

(And in a non-home school world, 8:15 is no biggie.  I hear you.  But in our world – it is.)

Prior to the departure of all six children there are lunches to be packed, shoes to locate, homework to be accounted for, breakfast to be served, children to be clothed and some surprise last-minute item to be wrangled.

(This week it was popcorn for Willow’s class as they learned about Pilgrims.  Or Indians.  Or some group of people that ate popcorn.  Apparently.  Like us.  We eat popcorn.  By the jarful.  Seriously.  We pop a lot of popcorn around these parts.)

There are usually tears to be dried.

(Tears, you ask?  Yes.  Tears.  Either Otto does not prefer to get dressed or Willow does not care to wear the seasonally-appropriate attire I have lovingly placed out for her or Hawkeye does not desire to leave the blanket he has ensconced himself in on the living room sofa.  Tears.  You see.)

And thus Mondays begin and proceed.

And it seems every Monday I think I will get up earlier to prepare better and every Monday I get up and face some unexpected calamity and every Monday it seems I find myself staring at the clock and thinking, “Well, I guess there is no time for me to shower after all.”  And then I rifle through my arsenal of buffs and headbands and hats and choose some covering for my unkempt head of hair and try to throw on an assortment of cloth that I hope will effectively distract people into thinking that I actually mean to look this disheveled.

Then I bluster and blunder through the rest of Monday, dropping Riley off at one place, sending four kids to another location and then keeping my wee little Wilder with me as we visit no less than three stores to locate the best deals for grocery items for the week.  Then it’s off to our milk pick-up and the milk drop-off and then back to the milk barn to pay the gentleman farmer his earnings and then off to scoop up Riley to eventually land softly (and loudly) back at home.

At which point I usually see myself in the mirror for the second time of the day and think, “Oh, this look didn’t exactly marinate well today.”  Because what appears acceptable in the light of a sleepy morning rarely looks presentable in the harsh afternoon light.

This is a typical Monday.

Which is why the compliment a near-stranger gave me last Monday really stood out to me.

She took the extra time to send me a little e-mail  (because she orders the milk I deliver on Mondays).  And in her e-mail she told me how much she likes seeing my outfits each Monday.  How cute they are.  How she thinks to herself, “That is a fun way to pair clothing together.”

And I thought to myself, “You have no idea.”

And she doesn’t.

She didn’t.

She had no idea that on Mondays I feel hurried and unsteady and frazzled.

And I have always assumed that I looked the part as well.

This woman had nothing to gain from sending me that e-mail.  No reason to share those thoughts with me.  No benefit to taking her own valuable time and expressing her opinions about my wardrobe.

And she had no idea that it would matter so much to me.

That it would be such a lovely boost to my Monday madness.

And that makes me wonder –

Why don’t women compliment other women more often?

Do we think that if we tell another women that she looks great it will somehow make us look less great?

Are we so insecure that to point out someone else’s light might make ours seem a little less bright?

I don’t know, really.

Maybe there’s some truth to that.

Maybe we’re afraid.  Maybe we’re insecure.

Or maybe we’ve just forgotten how powerful a compliment actually is.

Perhaps we underestimate the weight of a kind word aptly spoken.

Are we aware that a sincere sentiment can work its magic in someone’s mind for many days?

That a word of praise has this lovely trickle-down effect that we never even get to witness but that drips down into the actions and thoughts of the receiver?

I want to be about lifting up.

I want to be about encouragement.

Our days are filled with the opposite – just  overflowing already with self-doubt and trouble and fear and past insecurities.

But I’d like to be that voice that speaks up – that says to another women, whether stranger or friend – “You look beautiful today.”

“Your dress is so flattering.  Your haircut is fantastic.  I think you have a wonderful smile.”

I can guarantee you this – whoever she is – that woman needs to hear your compliment more than you will ever realize.