I was heating up soup in the microwave earlier this week; something I’ve done hundreds of times.
As I took the container out of the microwave, a piercing jet of steam escaped from underneath its plastic lid, setting off a chain reaction.
The steam scorched my hand, forcing me to drop the boiling soup. The container bounced off the edge of the kitchen counter, hit the floor, and sent its contents everywhere.
I’m sure the laws of physics were broken that day, as I couldn’t figure out how that much French Onion soup could end up on our ceiling.
I slumped to the floor, dejected that I’d lost our dinner, and frustrated at the mess I’d created.
At this point, Maru came running in.
After making sure I wasn’t burning alive, she immediately started to make me feel better with jokes about how our ceiling had never looked so good.
We spent the next 20 minutes wiping down every surface of our kitchen, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the way she responded.
She was patience personified.
We’re all human, and part of the deal of being human is we’re destined to mess up, in countless ways, for the rest of our lives. But the journey is made easier when those around us are gracious and gentle through those times.
She left breadcrumbs in the forest for me that day, ones that I hope I can follow in the future.