A few weeks ago, I found myself unexpectedly caring for a feral cat recovering from a spay procedure. I had helped trap two cats as part of a trap-neuter-return effort and was working with two experienced animal rescue organizations —one I’d known for a while. It was a stressful time for everyone, but what I hadn’t anticipated was how quickly their stress would transfer onto me. I found myself feeling like an imposition, like I was “in the way” of their mission rather than part of it.
Let me be clear: I deeply respect the work they do. Their passion for helping feral animals is undeniable. But somewhere in the urgency and overwhelm, communication slipped into condescension. Help turned into obligation. And I, someone new to this world, was left figuring things out on my own—uncertain, anxious, and counting down the hours until I could return the cat safely.
I have no desire to trap and release again.
Not because I don’t believe in the cause. But because I was made to feel invisible. Like a problem, not a person. And that left an imprint.
It’s a hard truth, but one we all need to sit with: How we make others feel—especially in moments of stress—matters.
A Very Different Experience
This stands in stark contrast to a memory I carry from childhood. His name was Lt. Col. Perry Mills, and he was the only dentist to die in Vietnam. But to me, he was more than a military designation—he was my sister’s friend and a frequent visitor in our home. I was the typical tagalong younger sibling, always underfoot, but Perry never treated me like a nuisance. He saw me. He engaged with me. He made me feel like I belonged in the room, not like I was taking up space.
That was more than 60 years ago, and I still remember it.
Perry taught me—without ever saying the words—that investing in others, no matter how briefly, can have a lasting impact. That making someone feel wanted and enjoyed, especially a child, can shape the way they see themselves for decades to come.
The Lesson in Between
I was reminded of that same truth during the years I spent caregiving for my step-grandmother. Every day, she had a choice. She could let the stress over her changing life harden her, making her short-tempered and dismissive. Or she could use that pressure as an invitation to rise above—to choose gentleness over frustration, presence over impatience. She most often chose the first option, unfortunately. And I learned this: We always have a choice to be a blessing or a curse. It is always, without fail, our choice, regardless of our age, or life circumstances – we have a choice.
No matter how stressful the situation is, we are still responsible for how we treat others. “I’m stressed” is not an excuse for emotional dumping or exclusion. It may explain behavior—but it doesn’t excuse it. We must own our energy and take responsibility for how it affects those around us.
More Than Kindness
This is about more than being “kind.” It’s about being emotionally accountable. It’s about being aware of the ripple effect of our words and actions—even when we’re tired, even when we’re overwhelmed.
The truth is, we never know when we’re being someone’s Perry Mills—when our response in a moment could become a memory someone carries for a lifetime. Whether we’re speaking to a child, a colleague, a volunteer, or a stranger—each interaction is a chance to leave someone better than we found them.
We are all busy. We are all navigating pressures. But the real work—the deeper human work—is remembering that others are navigating theirs too. Seeing them. Including them. Respecting them. That’s what builds trust. That’s what creates community. That’s what changes lives.
And sometimes, that’s all it takes.
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
—Maya Angelou
So today, I invite you to pause and ask yourself:
What feeling do people walk away with after being around me?
Let’s choose to be the kind of person who makes others feel seen, heard, and valued—no matter what.