Today is Gladys’ birthday.
If you don’t know who she is, Gladys is the co-founder and head-educator of our company, Gosh! Kids. She's also my wife.
I’m not great at math but, last I counted, she turns 35. Statistically, life expectancy is around what, 75, 80 years? That puts her close to the halfway mark.
Numbers aside, I think there is nothing inherently special about the day we were born. At the same time, I also think there can be something powerful in these artificial constructs, in deciding to mark a turning point, in encouraging us to pause, reflect, and reset.
To think that there were people before us who, unfortunately, never made it to this number, it can serve as a humbling reminder… or, the way I see it, a call to do something bigger with our lives.
Earlier this week, Gladys gathered ten mothers to our home for an early birthday celebration. Some were friends, some were strangers whom she invited through social media. Gladys—being Gladys—didn’t plan a typical birthday celebration. The plan was to bring women together for a time of reflection and encouragement, with a creative twist. The mothers took turns to talk about their lives, what they were thankful for, what had changed since motherhood, what they missed most, what life at this point truly meant for them. They also had to send in a picture they resonated with most, which was then printed and slotted into a wooden frame as a souvenir. It was, at its core, a celebration of life as it is.
As the evening went on, conversations gravitated towards their struggles, regrets, worries. No doubt, tears were shed, one after another. It’s weird to say this but it was almost like a “group therapy” session. And yet, as I entered the home at the end of it, I could sense wholesomeness in the air. The look on everyone’s faces was the look of a grateful person—grateful for this initiative they never knew they needed in a particularly strange season of their lives.
Isn’t that what we all can do for each other?
To do something thoughtful, something nice, for someone else?
We’re living in terrible times. Parts of the world are in war. Corruption and poverty are rampant. We see in the news, all too frequently, about dysfunction and neglect in families, how parents fail to live up to their responsibilities, how children are abandoned, abused and, worse still, murdered (RIP Megan Khung). Raising kids, to say the least, is more difficult than it looks. It takes a big part of you which sometimes never gets returned.
We all have our problems, and we certainly want to feel better.
But do you know how we can feel better?
Simple.
Go do something nice for someone else.
No, I’m not talking about organising a group therapy session on your birthday. I’m not talking about donating thousands of dollars to the children’s charity or the local social services—although that would be nice and would definitely help someone in need. No, I’m talking about something as simple as buying them a meal, or dropping them a text, or giving your unused bicycle a second life by handing it down to your neighbour. This may seem like a small thing. In fact, it’s everything.
You cannot change the world. You cannot shift culture. You cannot remove that irresponsible, incompetent leader from the system. Or maybe you could, with little significance.
But you know what is significant? Your kindness, your empathy, your donation—because your actions could mean everything to that person. I think that’s what the saying partly means when it says “he who saves one person saves the world”—that you certainly save that person’s whole world.
And that’s why I’m so blessed to celebrate the life of Gladys.
Every day, for as long as I can remember, she reflects on her God-given calling, and wonders if she is doing enough. If anything, she has spoken well of others, has been on the lookout for others, and has always encouraged and added value to others. I don’t know how she does it, but she does it well, which I suspect is because she’s particularly sensitive to one’s demeanour. Some people have that skill (or superpower?), but don’t use it for anything other than gossip. But for Gladys, one look is all it takes to know that a person is having a bad day. And she doesn’t stop there. She acts on it. Young or old, she reaches out, texts them, prays for them, hugs them, sometimes cries with them, even if there’s a slight chance she might offend them.
When I think about trailblazers I think of Gladys. I think about all the fire she’s left behind in search of new frontiers. I think about the marks and dents she’s imprinted in people’s lives, which is nothing but evidence of her empathy and compassion, her drive to do everything she can to empower men, women and children.
It’s both a gift and a curse, Gladys once said to me, to have so much genuine love for people. And she’s right. You pour so much of yourself out, and unfortunately, you don’t always get something in return. And to think that there's been instances where people repaid her good with evil! Not that Gladys ever expects anything in return—it’s simply not in her nature. If anything, that only further reveals the remarkability of her character. She has never given any less because of it. In fact, it’s one of the things I admire most about her: choosing to keep showing kindness, integrity, and goodness, even when it isn’t reciprocated.
“A good name,” King Solomon once said, “is better than fine perfume, and the day of death better than the day of birth.” What he meant was that the true measure of your life is not its length or riches but the quality with which you live it.
I’m happy to report that my wife has been living a quality life. It may be a little morbid to say this, but if you told me this was her end, I’d feel pretty good about that too—because she has given more in the 35 years than what the 35 years has given her.
Man… as I write this I'm just so grateful to have married such a woman. In fact, I’m doubly lucky to get to partner with her in family and in business, and triply lucky, if you want to consider it, that she wants to celebrate this day with me.
At the end of your life, the philosopher Seneca said, we should have more to show for it than just a number. If we’re not going to use birthdays as a reminder of how much time remains and how much more work must be put in to fulfil whatever our purpose in life is, then birthdays are not worth anything and our life is, sad to say, meaningless.
But it doesn’t have to be that way.
This is a reminder that you can do something about it.
This is a reminder that you can change someone else’s life, one deed at a time.
Now go, and do something nice for someone else.
