I was on my toes - turning right - when I fell over. It wasn’t the best turn, but it was the best I had ever turned. And a stranger on the ski lift noticed.

“You’re good, bro.” That’s what he said as he floated past.

That’s all he said, and I didn’t see his face, and he didn’t know me, but I felt like he understood me. I felt proud because I was good. Not good good, but learning-and-improving good. I was getting this. I was getting better at turning on my toes. And another snowboarder on the ski lift had noticed and recognized me.

I was still thinking about our encounter an hour later during lunch. I still think about it now - more than a year later. I was touched by a tiny bit of recognition given by a stranger at exactly the right moment. I’ve been watching for a chance to do the same for someone else, but I don’t know if I’ve managed it yet. Maybe there’s no way of knowing when the time is right. No way of knowing that what you say will touch someone’s heart. Maybe you just have to give sincere praise whenever you can. Even when it might not be that meaningful to the other person. On the off chance that you’ll create some significant memory. Maybe the snowboarder on the ski lift knew exactly what he was doing. But I had just fallen over trying to turn, and I didn’t acknowledge him. I never saw him. Maybe he doesn’t know.