Jens Cercie

Pix message from my friend Angie last month of her newborn's gorgeous face ... little Jens. He has been making appearances on FaceBook ever since. And he's been on my mind: "I need to see that baby." 

I thought of him again today while I was in Greenville for work. At a stoplight. "I could get a quick peek of little Jens after my meeting before heading back to Columbia!" 

Dig for phone in purse. Glance at stoplight. Search for Angie's info. Glance at stoplight (still red). Quick text. SEND. Light turns green. HONK! Throw phone in purse. Off to find a parking spot near Coffee Underground. 

You know you have a fun job when you have meetings at coffee shops called Coffee Underground. I'm early for this one, too. Rare. I walk leisurely, take the steps to the "underground." Open the door. Approach the counter. Scan the shop in search of the people I'm meeting. 

"I'll have a smoothie with a shot of soy protein, please." Glance again at the scene. 

STOP THE TRAIN. 

Am I seeing things? Can it be? 

Angie is sitting in one of the lounge chairs feeding little Jens! 

I sneak over. "I bet you weren't expecting to see me here!" They didn't look surprised. 

Angie: "Did you get my text?" 

Amy: "No! I haven't checked my phone, yet." 

Angie: "I just sent you a note that we are at Coffee Underground."

I don't know what's my most favorite: That they were already at Coffee Underground and I was headed there anyway, that I was pleasantly surprised by a real-world "collision" vs. a preparatory "we are here" text message or that I got to see the baby and his mamma!

The little serendipitous moments of life that make you feel connected to everything. That make it all seem worthwhile. That bring such joy. The Jens Cercies.

Bringing CERCIE Back

Let's not dwell on the fact that I have abandoned this blog for nearly four years ... !

Let's dwell on the Cercie moment of the day: The Intern Cercie.

It's Monday. It's raining. It's dreary. We file into staff meeting, go around the table detailing our busy calendars for the week. As I walk out of the board room and pass Ms. Yvonne's receptionist desk, she calls me aside. "Amy, I have something for you." She pulls out a pretty package with a card. "The intern that worked for you last year came by last week and left this for you," she said. I snatched it up with glee, like a little dog grabbing a bone and running off to enjoy it in private. I snuck off to my office and set it on my desk, admiring it, savoring the moment of anticipation before opening it.

The card was dear. The kindest, most endearing words. Taylor the Intern is on her way to working a job at Teach for America in South Carolina, thanks to my guidance and recommendations and so on. I thought to myself, "You did all that on your own, girl. I was just cheerleading." But it really touched me. I thought about the little encouragements we give and get throughout the day, throughout our lives. They matter, and they mattered to my former intern so much that she went out of her way to thank me.

She remembered how I always had a Tervis tumbler full of coffee, and that I'm a Furman grad, so I was thrilled when I pulled the purple and white curly ribbon off the package to pull out a new tumbler with a Furman logo on it! I read and reread Taylor's note. She is a lovely writer.

I can't think of a better person to be going into schools in distressed areas of the state to help transform the lives of young people who rarely get those little encouragements in life, the young people who rarely get to feel the Cercie Joy that I did today.