The Power of Mentoring and Thanking Your Lucky Stars
By Shane Robitaille
This is me as a little kid with one of my best friends and mentors I would ever have. I met Arthur Lord (I called him Mr. Lord) and his wife Priscilla when I was about five-years old and they were in their late 60s. Growing up with welfare and food stamps, moving all the time, and later as a homeless teenager, Mr. and Mrs. Lord gave me a glimpse into a different world, one that was bigger, more beautiful, and full of hope. They were some of the first people I met who read books, read poetry, appreciated art, cared a lot about the world around them, and spent real time and energy trying to make the world a little better for everybody, especially those less fortunate.
They taught me at a young age to be curious about the world around me, to care about the environment, to find beauty in the ordinary world, to laugh, to read a lot, to express myself, and to always try to have big dreams. As a kid with a big chip on my shoulder, they also taught me that words are mightier than fists. They didn’t just tell me these things, they lived it.
As a young woman Mrs. Lord took a job as a driving librarian during the depression. Later she worked at the Smithsonian, became a painter, and a philanthropist. By the time she passed away in her 80s, she had given almost every cent she had to non-profits and hundreds of people around the world who were in need, none of which she ever met or knew. She spent the last few years of her life pouring through the pages of the New York Times and other publications, reading about people who were in need, and sending them a little money, probably anonymously.
Mr. Lord retired as a lawyer and went back to college in his 60s for the fun of it. In his 70s he became an amateur botanist, a published poet, a naturalist, and a student of the world. He passed away in his 90s, when I was 28. In his last few years he became blind but was still the captain of the pool team at his assisted living community, walked (blind) every day, and still wrote poetry and letters to the editor at the New York Times; in fact, I typed many of them on his old typewriter during my visits.
In the hustle and bustle of our ever distracted and fast-paced life, I think it’s so important to try to be present, right here, right now, and leave a little gas in our tanks to try to help others. As I’m writing this almost 22 years after Mr. Lord passed away, I am thankful they did that for me, especially at a young age when I needed their perspective the most.
That little kid in the photo had no idea what was happening around him, and likely didn’t thank them enough during those visits, but there isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think of them. I thank my lucky stars that I had the privilege of knowing them.
