Words that Stay
Some words don’t last a moment, they last a lifetime. A single sincere compliment, spoken at the right time, can stay with someone for years. This story is about one of those moments.
“When you notice something good or beautiful in someone, tell them. A moment for you might become a lifetime of memory for them.” ~Goodmoodism
Back in 2010, I was working as a student assistant in the Social and Cultural Department of my college in Arizona. It was one of my happiest little jobs, a desk, some papers, kind colleagues, good people, good energy, the company of some of the kindest and most inspiring professors I’ve ever met, and the feeling of being part of something bigger.
One afternoon, while I was sitting at my desk, one of my favorite professors, Mr. C., walked in. He was an economics professor, loved by his students, tall, broad, with a kind face and a head of white hair that gave him a bit of a wise-wizard look. Sometimes he reminded me of Hagrid from Harry Potter, not in looks, but in figure and presence.
He leaned over my desk and said, “S., I want to tell you something. I really hope I don’t embarrass you.”
Of course, when someone starts with that sentence, your brain doesn’t go to nice places. Mine raced through every possible disaster.
Did I type something wrong? Forget an assignment? Say something silly? Mess up a report? And why was he saying this in front of my colleagues, who were all listening?
My panic tripled.
Then he smiled and said:
“You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen in my entire life.”
I froze. Not because I was embarrassed, but because I’d just spent the last thirty seconds preparing for the worst, only to be hit with… a compliment.
I was 27, and this kind, 60-something professor gave me one of the most genuine compliments I’ve ever received. The way he said it, sincere, gentle, almost shy, made it unforgettable.
He added, “I’ve wanted to tell you since you started working here, and now that you’ll be leaving soon, I couldn’t let you go without saying it.”
My colleagues all smiled. I blushed, and all I managed to say was, “Thank you, Mr. C.”
The truth is, I wasn’t embarrassed. Just shy. And deeply touched. I’ve received compliments for my eyes before, but that one will always stay with me.
What touched me most wasn’t just the words, it was the sincerity. He didn’t say it to charm me, whisper it in private with strange intentions, or flatter me. He said it openly, honestly, without hesitation, in a room full of people. He truly meant it, and that made it beautiful.
Months later, as I was leaving, I gave out a little notebook for people to write messages in. When it came back to me, Mr. C. had written:
“Not to embarrass you in any way, I still think you have the most beautiful eyes. They radiate your inner spirit.”
Now it’s there forever, pressed into paper. And I am forever grateful for that moment, for his kindness, and for his courage to say something beautiful out loud.
Wherever you are, Mr. C., I hope you’re well.
It’s a quiet encouragement to give voice to the good and the beauty we see in others. Kind words don’t fade as quickly as we think, they linger, sometimes becoming a memory someone holds on to for a lifetime.
When was the last time you told someone something kind about them, and how did it make them (or you) feel?
Have you ever received a compliment that stayed with you long after it was said?
With a happy smile,
GOO:DMOO:DISM
P.S.
As this month comes to an end, I want to share something with you. Starting in December, I’ll be shifting from weekly letters to a monthly one. I have many stories waiting patiently on the page, but I also want to give them, and myself time.
Writing has become a place of joy and discovery for me, and I want to give it the space it needs so it can stay that way.
At the very least, one story will always land in your inbox every month, still on a Wednesday. And if inspiration arrives unexpectedly, or a story insists on being shared sooner, I’ll send it along, too. No rules, just a more natural rhythm.
Thank you for reading my stories, for being here, and for all your encouragement.
xx

