The Kinder Project:

Dear Friends,

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There once was a girl.... a very beautiful, very sad girl.

It is time I told you a little about her. Because of her, Kinder Words was born.

I can still see her when I close my eyes, as I saw her nearly four years ago. She was the kind of pretty that's hard to forget... flawless skin, shiny hair, everything petite and graceful.

I was a bit intimidated when I first met her. She had just come home from deployment in Iraq and was going to be training me in my new civilian position on the Charleston AFB. She was very nice to me, and patiently guided me... but her speech was rough, as had obviously been her life.

I was a little afraid to be myself around her... I felt naive and sheltered. We had little in common.

Yet, somehow... a bond was formed.
Not as tight as some I have experienced, nor as some she had experienced I am sure. But it was undeniably there.

After several months of working together, we became friends. We would go to the gym together, exchange silly emails, I made her tiramisu on her birthday, and we goofed off into the wee hours of the morning.

It is amazing to me how I could have been so clueless to the extent of her suffering. Of course, I knew there were things wrong... I knew she wanted to stick it to the man, she had plenty of ghosts in her past, and a couple of drawers full of anti-depressants. But I never knew how unhappy she was...

There was a call early one morning. As I hung up the phone, I felt numb... not sure if I believed it. How could it be possible that she had really done that? That she was really gone forever?

...I was honored to be able to speak at her funeral. It's not easy to say the right words when you are so confused. I just wanted everyone to know how lovely she was, and how important her life was. But the right words...

the right words...

the right words...

Haunted me.

Had I not said them? I could think of half a dozen times when she had shared intimate secrets with me, and I had not known how to comfort her. I could think of even more times than that when a complaint, or a remark that seemed normal was actually a cry for help. Good God, I knew there had been failures that I could never undo. Any opportunity to shine kindness into this girl's life was over.

Because of this devastating reality, my eyes were opened.

I am not invisible.

You are not invisible.

Every time you come in contact with another human being is an opportunity to make their life better, or worse. But it will never the same.

It was a huge awakening for an introverted soul like mine.

For some reason, simple actions were/are difficult for me sometimes. To smile and wish a good day to a stranger, to encourage a cashier, or lend a quick hand to an elderly person or struggling mother, to speak to my neighbors when we are out on the lawn...

But, it was time to stop making excuses for opportunities lost. It was time to speak some kindness into the lives of invisible suffering that surrounded me.

Of course, I still fail. There are days, even weeks, when I revert back into my shy habits. But, then I wake up and jump back on that horse again.

In honor of Rachelle, I am doing something a little different this week. I am going to be taking photos and posting them, each containing some words that I hope will inspire you into a movement of your own. If at any time during the week, you feel especially touched, and would like to help the victims of depression, please go to this site, To Write Love On Her Arms and donate a few dollars. It would mean so much to me if you would tell them that you are doing it in honor of Rachelle Sloan.


Rachelle Sloan
1984-2008


xoxo Kristin