Yesterday, I received the strangest email from my friend, Anna. "Use one word to describe me," she wrote. It sounded simple enough.

After fifteen minutes of laboring over this one request, I was mentally exhausted. I couldn't believe how hard it was to describe her using just one word. Talk about a humiliating writer's block! Outdone by one little word. I felt like a "two-bit hack." Finally, it came to me. Taking a deep breath, I typed "KIND," and clicked on the send button. I was elated. I had the feeling I get after finishing a manuscript, a feeling of intense satisfaction.

Within a few minutes after sending the email, the phone on my desk rang. I glanced at the time on my computer screen. Eight AM. Hmm. It can't be the school, I reasoned, Seth just left to meet the bus. Cautiously, I picked up the receiver. It was the pleasant Southern twanging voice of my friend, Anna. "Tell me again what you do for a living?" She asked mischievously.

"I-I. . .excuse me?" I stuttered. I hadn't had my coffee yet, and things were not making sense. "I asked what you did for a living. The word that you used to describe me reminded me of some gereatric person sitting on a park bench." I smiled to myself.

Anna was far from being that tame; though she was several years old than I, she could still out-do me in every physical task that I could imagine. "I just meant that you were a wonderful friend, and one of the kindest, most considerate, people I know." I said a quick prayer silently. Even though I meant every word, it sounded fake, even to me. I was sure that Anna would pick up on it.


"Well," she sniffed, "since you put it that way, I guess I can accept that explanation." I sighed in relief; for the moment, ruffled feathers had been smoothed. "Well," she snapped. "Don't you want to now how I see you?"

"Do I really want to know how you feel about me right now?" I asked wryly.

"Smart-alek. I think that you're 'ALIVE.'"

"Really?" I took a sip of coffee and allowed the bold rich flavor to linger on my palette. My early morning fog was beginning to lift from my brain. "Must be after I have a couple of cups of java."

"No," Anna said patiently. "What I mean is that you're FULL OF LIFE. You enjoy every second of every day, and live each moment as if it were you're last." She paused, and I heard the sound of her sniffling in the background. "Now, if you would please excuse me," she said. "I have to go be KIND to something. Maybe I'll go sit on a park bench and feed the pigeons.

"Anne wait," I said. This whole conversation is really grating on my nerves, I thought. "What I meant is that you're such a humanitarian. You would give your last bit of food to a starving person, and the clothes off your back to someone shivering in the cold. That's a better word for you, humanitarian."

Anna was content with my explanation, and after a few mor eminutes of idle chit-chat, we said our good-byes and hung up.

As we pass through this world, opinions are formed and labels are stuck on us. What is the one word that you want people to see you as?