CHOOSING A MISSION IN LIFE.

I have known for a long time what my mission in life was. I never said anything about it to anyone because I thought maybe some new revelation would appear in my psyche that had a more noble significance than the little mission early revealed to me.

Actually I had always hoped that at some point I could say something like “My mission in life is to ….” and be able to look back and see that I had fed the hungry , or made it possible for small children to have a cleft-palate repair, or to provide a loving home for little homeless cats, all of which I have done in small measure but not as a mission in life. I’ve had other little charities that I’ve supported either over a period of time or for a specific reason, but none so as I could feel it was my mission to do.

But very honestly, by the time one gets to be my age, there probably is not going to be any big change in what one feels called to do, or at least it isn’t going to happen very often. So I have decided that I’d better just be satisfied with what has been somehow impressed upon my mind as what I can do to make my little corner of earth better. I am actually a bit embarrassed to admit it, lest you all think I have gone slightly cuckoo, but it is what it is.

And here it is: I am impelled to advise restaurant management when I find women’s restrooms in need of attention.

Why me? Why a restroom? Why a restaurant? Such an ignominious calling! Such an inglorious mission!

Remember the poem “Abou Ben Adhem” – (may his tribe increase) who found an angel standing beside his bed one night writing in a book. He asked the angel what it was writing and the angel said “The names of those who love the Lord.” Abou learned that his name wasn’t there, so asked the angel to write instead that Abou loved his fellow man. And the next night when the angel came Abou learned that from that one admission his name had been moved to the top of the list.

No, I don’t suppose many of you remember that poem. It may be that because my mother read that poem to my sister and me so much when we were little, I always thought I needed to have a mission in life too.

But women’s restroom maintenance? Is that all there is behind my name in the book of life?

Here I must state that I do feel I am doing the women who come behind me into the public bathroom a big service. There is nothing like being caught with no paper seat cover, or no toilet paper. Or wet floors around the commode. Or worst of all, an unflushed toilet! After finding such conditions, I always quietly march out to the nearest employee and advise them that the women’s restroom is in immediate need of attention. Usually the bosses appear grateful. The employees usually roll their eyes at me. But at least I’ve discharged my part of the mission. Now it is up to someone else.

I do love my fellow man, however, So perhaps the Angel at the foot of my bed will, after writing “She brought dirty bathrooms to the attention of restaurant Management”, add “and she does love her fellow man, too, just not as much as clean bathrooms!”