I have been representing the sweetest buyer this month and on Monday, we closed on her forever home. Both the seller and buyer were single women making a huge move to different states to be near their kids and both of them were very stressed. After a few complications, the agent on the other side and I managed to get them to closing but not without some unneeded hard feelings for the seller and the buyer. When I attended the final walk through we found a note from the seller to my client…handwritten on flowery paper. She shared her love of this home and her hope that my client would find peace and joy within its walls just as she had. My clients hard feelings crumbled and she instantly saw what the other agent and I saw, two high stress clients that had good intentions from the beginning. Wounds were healed and my client has already fired off a new note to the seller to thank her and heal the wounds further. I sent a note to the other agent, the seller and to my buyer but it was truly because of the first card in this chain that bridges to friendship and understanding were built.

Long day but was a able to get a note out someone that did not give me a listing. Thanked them for the opportunity.

A parable about gratitude... Still, She Shines In a quiet village between the mountains and the plains, an unassuming young woman served her community with quiet consistency. She mended clothes for neighbors who couldn’t afford new ones. She prepared and delivered meals to those recovering from illness. She watched over children when parents needed a break or had to work late. She didn’t keep score—she just tried to help wherever help was needed. Most of the time, she was content knowing she was making a difference—whether or not anyone said it out loud. But lately, a question had crept in. Not because people were unkind or ungrateful—just distracted, busy, going through their days. The smiles had faded. The thank-yous had thinned. And she found herself wondering: Does this really matter? One evening, feeling off-center and unsure, she stood at the edge of the village path, hesitating. Her grandmother’s cottage wasn’t far—just a short walk through the trees—but tonight, even that felt like a quiet admission: something inside her needed steadying. She almost turned back - told herself she was fine and didn’t need to bother anyone with something so small or vague. But something in her chest tugged forward. And so, with a soft exhale, she began walking the winding path to her grandmother’s cottage on the edge of the village. They sat by the fire, wrapped in a silence that didn’t feel empty. After a while, the young woman spoke. “I’ve been doing what I always do. But lately… I’m not sure if anyone notices. Or if it even matters.” Her grandmother stirred the fire, then nodded toward the window, where the last light stretched across the hills. “What gives warmth, helps things grow, and shows up every day—even when most people don’t stop to appreciate it?” The young woman followed her gaze. “The sun.” Her grandmother smiled. “Exactly. Rarely do people stop and appreciate the sun. But we count on it. The sun doesn’t shine for applause. The sun shines because that’s what the sun does. And because people know you, and they know your heart, they’ve come to count on you in the same way—because your nature is to

I've taken on this challenge with my own approach. Instead of writing thank you cards, I've been working on my daily attitude and outlook on my interaction with others. I strive to look at interactions and situations in a more gratuitous light. I've done this especially with people that I've newly met. I participated in a workshop yesterday with this approach and in less than an hour the five of us that attended became fast friends looking forward to seeing each other at the next event. The experience truly made my day and reminded me that we often all want the same thing: positive human connection that makes us feel good and reminds us that we matter.