Rules of Encouragement

Rules of Encouragement WHEN I WAS THIRTEEN, I spent most Saturdays delivering a free news paper for a local press agency. It wasn’t the most recognized edition; in fact it was pretty much the lowest grade paper out there. Your Encouragement My route consisted of the same old figure eight loop around the neighbourhood. But this loop did include one special house; number eighteen Carla Avenue. This house was occupied by a kind older gentleman that went by the name of Rick James. Rick was always out in his garden making sure everything looked presentable. I would guess Rick was alone as there was always only one car parked in his yard, never any kids around and he was always there when I came cycling along. Old enough to be my granddad, Rick always had a smile on his face when I pulled up to give him his weekly paper. My incredibly low status was probably the reason Rick James never failed to bring me a little gift each Saturday morning. Rick used to be a salesman for an advertising company. The first of Rick’s many gifts to me was to say, “Martin, you’re doing a fine job delivering those papers,” as he pressed into my hand a little Swiss army pocket knife, which I carry with me to this day. The very next week it was, “Martin, you’re a hard worker, and I’m convinced you’re going to be a great man someday.” Then he handed me a golden coin with two sides both displaying ‘tails’ with a little quote reading, “You create your own luck”, which I still have today. One week he told me his old Advertising Company was sending him a big leather bound diary as a thank you gift for his twenty five years with the company. He said he didn’t have much use for something like that and that he wanted me to have it. Rick believed in me long before I believed in me. His affirmations each week helped me bounce out of bed with a sense of mission and purpose. There might have only been ten people on my route, who actually read the paper, but one of them was Rick James, and Rick cared whether I did a good job. One Friday night, my mom brought me a piece of mail. It was addressed to, Martin van Zyl (a fine young man) Inside I found the most amazing leather diary I have ever seen. Twelve hours later, as the clock approached 6am, I cycled up to Rick’s house hoping to catch him coming out. There was a note stuck to his front door: “Rick James died in his sleep on Wednesday night. Please deliver any mail back to the original address with the same notification.” Every morning, as I cycle out on my training route for competitive cycling, a little Swiss army knife I have in my emergency bag quietly whispers, “Encourage the people around you today, for you never know who they might become, or what tomorrow may bring.” - Martin The Rules Of Encouragement