How NeilsWheelsNY really began
“A Piece of Chocolate”
by Bob Rule
About this time last year my life was in a shambles. I suffered from depression brought on by my late midlife crises. The depression robbed me of most of the joys of life. Despite having a wonderful wife and a terrific daughter I allowed myself to drift away emotionally. Nothing seemed to matter to me. Holidays became a chore. Expensive, thoughtful gifts would sit unopened for months. Because I had the money to buy most anything I wanted, I neither wanted nor cared little about anything. Often, I would spend my entire day on automatic pilot deliberately keeping my head down to avoid contact with my colleagues and students. I felt as if my life was over and that I had failed to do a single thing that really mattered. I obsessed about the opportunities I had squandered, the great things I was going to do and never did. And, because I felt so old, it was too late to right the ship that was my life. I had been slowly sinking into self-pity and self-loathing for years.
And, then, I ran into Greg Barber. He was at his high school reunion and I was at a lacrosse reunion. By coincidence, the reunions were both in the same building. I had coached both his sons so I asked how they were doing. I was shocked to hear that his youngest son, Neil, was suffering from schizophrenia and had been hospitalized for the past ten years. For some reason I did the complete opposite of what I had been doing for years. Ordinarily, I would have said that is too bad, give him my best and blown Greg off. Instead, I surprised myself and asked Greg if I could visit Neil. I know Greg was a little surprised at my request. Little did he know how surprised I was at my request! We set a date and despite having some second thoughts and calling up with some lame excuse, I went with Greg to see Neil.
Neil is in a unit at Pilgrim State Hospital along with a group of men with similar problems. He seemed genuinely glad to see me and we talked about his life. We had a lot of catching up to do. When we left Neil, I was filled with an overwhelming desire to do something to help him. Again, I don’t know where this feeling came from but it was there. When I told my students about Neil and what he had been as an athlete and student in high school and what had happened to him they asked if they could do something for him. It was nearing Thanksgiving so I thought it would be nice if any student wanted to volunteer and bring in a dessert for the men in the unit I would deliver it and they would have some “home cooking” instead of the institutional food they were usually served. The student response was overwhelming and Greg and I were able to deliver a carload of food to the men on Thanksgiving. It was a huge success.
My students immediately began to plan for Christmas. In addition to the desserts they wanted to make cards for Neil. When Greg and I visited Neil to tell him the good news he asked if we could deliver most of the desserts to the homeless shelters in the Huntington area because he had been homeless during his struggles with his affliction and wanted to help them. So, we agreed to distribute the desserts to six homeless shelters in the Huntington area.
At the appointed hour on December 24th, I met Greg with my car filled to the ceiling with all kinds of desserts. I must admit I felt a bit like Santa Claus as we drove that cold night from place to place divvying up the goodies. When we finally reached the last shelter we hadn’t done such a good job of dividing our stash and so I felt we didn’t have as much for them. I remembered that I had a sampler box of Godiva chocolates that a student had given me for Christmas in my briefcase. I had meant to eat the chocolates but I had been so busy I never had the chance. I reached into my briefcase and pulled out the little gold box wrapped in a ribbon that contained the four chocolates and put it on top of the pile I was carrying in to the shelter.
This particular shelter had a Christmas tree with a few gifts under it. I remember thinking how few gifts there were for the number of people who lived there. As I was putting the various plates and platters under the tree a girl that looked to be about the age of my daughter and my students came down the stairs next to the tree and shyly watched me put the things down. I said hi and asked her what grade she was in. She said she was a 6th grader. We talked a little and I learned that she loved school and that her favorite subject was math and that she had been living there for the past three months. As she told me all this, I could see she was staring at the gold Godiva box.
I took the box and asked her if she would like a chocolate? “After all”, I said,” Godiva chocolates are the best in the whole world!”
Her eyes lit up and she said yes. I carefully opened the box and took the lid off to reveal the four chocolates. I remember that wonderful faint smell of chocolate as the lid came off. She stared into the box for several seconds as she carefully chose her piece. Finally, she gently, almost reverently picked up her chosen piece and I watched as she started nibbling around the edges as I have seen girls do but never boys, with a look of pure happiness on her face.
Without thinking, I handed her the little gold box and said, ”Here, have the rest.
”I fully expected that within a matter of minutes the other three pieces would be gone. After all, isn’t that what kids do without a second thought? Instead, I got the surprise of my life. She said thank you to me and that she was going to save the rest of the chocolates so that her mother, her brother and she could have a piece of this wonderful chocolate to celebrate Christmas.
I was completely overwhelmed. Here was this young girl, living in a homeless shelter, who had every right to hate the world yet could hardly wait to share her chocolates with her mom and brother on Christmas. All I heard in her voice was happiness, no trace of bitterness.
I spent the next few days thinking about this little girl and how powerful her message was to me. I resolved to do something in my life to pay her back for her incredible gift of kindness. I have little money these days so what could I do to pay her back? Then it hit me. Her gift was of kindness, so my gift should be the same. I decided that no more would I walk into the school with my head down, avoiding any contact with my colleagues and students. Instead, I would get my head up and say hello to everyone that I passed by. Fellow teachers, administrators, and students I knew, students I didn’t know, complete strangers who happen to be in the building. I would make as many complements as I could- nice outfit, nice tie, nice dress, cute haircut. In short, I would work hard to bring a smile to some ones’ face. There are days when I feel that just by saying hi to someone who is having a bad day will make them feel better. I am crawling slowly back to where I am grateful for every day, for my friends, for my job, for a sunny day, for a rainy day. Things matter to me again.
I was asked to write about something for NeilswheelsNY. Originally, it was going to be something innocuous but I kept coming back to the little girl and the piece of chocolate and the profound effect she had on my life.
This doesn’t happen without Neil Barber.
Call it fate, call it what you want but a series of events led me to that shelter on a cold Christmas Eve.
I have a chance meeting with Greg Barber who takes me to see his son, Neil, who suggests we help the homeless which leads me to a little girl on Christmas eve who takes a piece of chocolate thereby helping to save me from self pity and self loathing. Who said there are no miracles? I have learned one great lesson from all of this, “It is never too late to do the right thing.” I thought my life was over, I was too old, that my ability to contribute to the well being of people was all in the past. I am glad to say that was wrong.
by Bob Rule
About this time last year my life was in a shambles. I suffered from depression brought on by my late midlife crises. The depression robbed me of most of the joys of life. Despite having a wonderful wife and a terrific daughter I allowed myself to drift away emotionally. Nothing seemed to matter to me. Holidays became a chore. Expensive, thoughtful gifts would sit unopened for months. Because I had the money to buy most anything I wanted, I neither wanted nor cared little about anything. Often, I would spend my entire day on automatic pilot deliberately keeping my head down to avoid contact with my colleagues and students. I felt as if my life was over and that I had failed to do a single thing that really mattered. I obsessed about the opportunities I had squandered, the great things I was going to do and never did. And, because I felt so old, it was too late to right the ship that was my life. I had been slowly sinking into self-pity and self-loathing for years.
And, then, I ran into Greg Barber. He was at his high school reunion and I was at a lacrosse reunion. By coincidence, the reunions were both in the same building. I had coached both his sons so I asked how they were doing. I was shocked to hear that his youngest son, Neil, was suffering from schizophrenia and had been hospitalized for the past ten years. For some reason I did the complete opposite of what I had been doing for years. Ordinarily, I would have said that is too bad, give him my best and blown Greg off. Instead, I surprised myself and asked Greg if I could visit Neil. I know Greg was a little surprised at my request. Little did he know how surprised I was at my request! We set a date and despite having some second thoughts and calling up with some lame excuse, I went with Greg to see Neil.
Neil is in a unit at Pilgrim State Hospital along with a group of men with similar problems. He seemed genuinely glad to see me and we talked about his life. We had a lot of catching up to do. When we left Neil, I was filled with an overwhelming desire to do something to help him. Again, I don’t know where this feeling came from but it was there. When I told my students about Neil and what he had been as an athlete and student in high school and what had happened to him they asked if they could do something for him. It was nearing Thanksgiving so I thought it would be nice if any student wanted to volunteer and bring in a dessert for the men in the unit I would deliver it and they would have some “home cooking” instead of the institutional food they were usually served. The student response was overwhelming and Greg and I were able to deliver a carload of food to the men on Thanksgiving. It was a huge success.
My students immediately began to plan for Christmas. In addition to the desserts they wanted to make cards for Neil. When Greg and I visited Neil to tell him the good news he asked if we could deliver most of the desserts to the homeless shelters in the Huntington area because he had been homeless during his struggles with his affliction and wanted to help them. So, we agreed to distribute the desserts to six homeless shelters in the Huntington area.
At the appointed hour on December 24th, I met Greg with my car filled to the ceiling with all kinds of desserts. I must admit I felt a bit like Santa Claus as we drove that cold night from place to place divvying up the goodies. When we finally reached the last shelter we hadn’t done such a good job of dividing our stash and so I felt we didn’t have as much for them. I remembered that I had a sampler box of Godiva chocolates that a student had given me for Christmas in my briefcase. I had meant to eat the chocolates but I had been so busy I never had the chance. I reached into my briefcase and pulled out the little gold box wrapped in a ribbon that contained the four chocolates and put it on top of the pile I was carrying in to the shelter.
This particular shelter had a Christmas tree with a few gifts under it. I remember thinking how few gifts there were for the number of people who lived there. As I was putting the various plates and platters under the tree a girl that looked to be about the age of my daughter and my students came down the stairs next to the tree and shyly watched me put the things down. I said hi and asked her what grade she was in. She said she was a 6th grader. We talked a little and I learned that she loved school and that her favorite subject was math and that she had been living there for the past three months. As she told me all this, I could see she was staring at the gold Godiva box.
I took the box and asked her if she would like a chocolate? “After all”, I said,” Godiva chocolates are the best in the whole world!”
Her eyes lit up and she said yes. I carefully opened the box and took the lid off to reveal the four chocolates. I remember that wonderful faint smell of chocolate as the lid came off. She stared into the box for several seconds as she carefully chose her piece. Finally, she gently, almost reverently picked up her chosen piece and I watched as she started nibbling around the edges as I have seen girls do but never boys, with a look of pure happiness on her face.
Without thinking, I handed her the little gold box and said, ”Here, have the rest.
”I fully expected that within a matter of minutes the other three pieces would be gone. After all, isn’t that what kids do without a second thought? Instead, I got the surprise of my life. She said thank you to me and that she was going to save the rest of the chocolates so that her mother, her brother and she could have a piece of this wonderful chocolate to celebrate Christmas.
I was completely overwhelmed. Here was this young girl, living in a homeless shelter, who had every right to hate the world yet could hardly wait to share her chocolates with her mom and brother on Christmas. All I heard in her voice was happiness, no trace of bitterness.
I spent the next few days thinking about this little girl and how powerful her message was to me. I resolved to do something in my life to pay her back for her incredible gift of kindness. I have little money these days so what could I do to pay her back? Then it hit me. Her gift was of kindness, so my gift should be the same. I decided that no more would I walk into the school with my head down, avoiding any contact with my colleagues and students. Instead, I would get my head up and say hello to everyone that I passed by. Fellow teachers, administrators, and students I knew, students I didn’t know, complete strangers who happen to be in the building. I would make as many complements as I could- nice outfit, nice tie, nice dress, cute haircut. In short, I would work hard to bring a smile to some ones’ face. There are days when I feel that just by saying hi to someone who is having a bad day will make them feel better. I am crawling slowly back to where I am grateful for every day, for my friends, for my job, for a sunny day, for a rainy day. Things matter to me again.
I was asked to write about something for NeilswheelsNY. Originally, it was going to be something innocuous but I kept coming back to the little girl and the piece of chocolate and the profound effect she had on my life.
This doesn’t happen without Neil Barber.
Call it fate, call it what you want but a series of events led me to that shelter on a cold Christmas Eve.
I have a chance meeting with Greg Barber who takes me to see his son, Neil, who suggests we help the homeless which leads me to a little girl on Christmas eve who takes a piece of chocolate thereby helping to save me from self pity and self loathing. Who said there are no miracles? I have learned one great lesson from all of this, “It is never too late to do the right thing.” I thought my life was over, I was too old, that my ability to contribute to the well being of people was all in the past. I am glad to say that was wrong.
