Sorry. I think that you may have some of my marinara sauce on your cheek.

As I become older, I am more aware of the power of words. Especially the ones used as descriptors. We posed the task to our middle school small group to narrow in on the word they would want their friends to use in describing them. The idea was that they should have in mind the type of person that they want to become- that sort of stuff doesn’t just happen.

And so I though of the descriptive word that scarred me when I was a teenager. How could he have known that such a harmless comment would haunt me? It was so innocent. But his words had power of which he was unaware.

“Susan P. has got to be the nicest person ever. Really, she is the nicest person I have ever met.”

It is true that Susan P. is (was? I haven’t seen her in over 10 years and so maybe she has become cynical and bitter. Somehow I doubt it.) an extremely nice person. But I wanted to be the nicest person that he ever met. And that day I determined that I would, at some point in my future, be the nicest person that someone has ever known. Bot just nice. The Nicest.

It is true that thinking such thoughts sort of negate the compliment. I don’t think that you can technically be the nicest if you are trying. I think that it has to be natural. And so I try to forget that promise I made to myself.

Since then, my friends and I have discussed the word that we think others must use in describing us. Mine word is “easy, but not in the loose meaning of the word.” I have to admit that it is pretty right on. I am easy.

But not in the loose sense of being easy.

That day in our small group, I told the girls that I wanted to be known as generous. Generous with my time, my money, and my self.

And then a couple of weeks ago, while having a very nice dinner with a friend, he admitted that the word he used in describing me to his mom was “intimidating.” Could that be further from being nicest? And he meant it in such a nice way.

Friday, a different friend used the following descriptor: “Of higher moral fiber.” Really?

In both cases, I almost spit my food across the table in disbelief.

Hmm. It looks like I have a ways to go. Nicest. One Day. Or, I’ll settle for generous.