For the Good of Mankind

I feel so accomplished and like a new person. I have made someone’s day brighter. I think. But all the same, it feels so warmly good to know that someone will be happy because of me, and that they shall continue pursuing their dream because of me. I haven’t really done much, but it’s a lot to others.

You see, I remember in around fifth grade when, on Valentine’s Day, the teacher made us each write a compliment to each of our classmates and then put it in their little “mailbox” on their desks. When I got my twenty four compliments (let’s just assume I had 24 other kids in my class), reading through them, I felt this swelling feeling of happiness. They weren’t even so sincere, and they were just simple compliments, yet it made me feel so,,, worthy of being here, and so belonging. It was, whaddaya call it, the opposite of lonely.

And in sixth grade, we had to present something, and the teacher had made us write a “critique” of every person’s presentation and give it to them so that they could improve next time. Well, being the little children we were, we all wrote compliments, except for the occasional, “louder voice,” or “eye contact.” But reading through it, with critiques and encouragements, I felt that I belonged in that classroom again, like life was worth it. (Which it is.)

So when I was on deviantart, and I saw that today was someone’s birthday, I decided to spread that happiness, and I went to their page and commented on their page and wished them a happy birthday. But I knew that just writing Happy Birthday wouldn’t mean much—I mean, tons of other people wrote that, too. I wanted them to know how good they were at drawing, how much I admired their drawing skill, and how I feel about their drawings. so I did. I wrote about four sentences, just telling them and complimenting them on their art.

A day later, they commented back, saying that it really made their day, and they thanked me for it. I mean, when I first read that, I thought of back in sixth grade, when I was reading through the critiques from my peers, when I felt that swelling happiness. And knowing (or at least, I think I know) that someone else had that same feeling—made my day in turn.

And who knows, maybe I encouraged them to continue drawing and maybe they’ll become the next Picasso.

…I don’t know about that.

But anyhow, I feel like I’ve done a great deed.

Who knew complimenting someone would make you feel so good? (: