“Sometimes the hardest words aren’t ‘I can do it.’ They’re ‘I can’t do this alone.'”
Estimated reading time: 6 minutes
There were five of us around the kitchen table.
The tea had gone cold long ago, but nobody seemed to mind.
Outside, the late afternoon carried the familiar sounds of children playing somewhere down the street. Every now and then, someone laughed, followed by the unmistakable cry of, “That wasn’t a goal!”
It was Uncle Joseph who asked the question.
“So…”
He looked around the table.
“Who helped you become the person you are?”
The room grew quieter than any of us expected.
David spoke first.
“My Grade 7 teacher.”
“What did she do?” Naledi asked.
He smiled.
“She kept telling me I asked good questions.”
“That doesn’t sound unusual.”
“It was to me.”
He wrapped both hands around his mug.
“Most people thought I talked too much.”
A few people laughed.
“She was the first person who made me think curiosity was a strength.”
Nobody rushed to fill the silence.
After a moment, Naledi spoke.
“I’ve got two.”
“Your parents?” asked Sipho.
She shook her head.
“The woman who sold fruit outside our school…”
“…and my aunt.”
“What did the fruit seller do?” asked Uncle Joseph.
Naledi smiled to herself.
“She learnt every child’s name.”
She looked out of the window before continuing.
“Every morning she’d say, ‘Morning, Naledi.'”
“That was all?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged.
“But somehow… being remembered every day made me feel like I mattered.”
The table fell quiet again.
Not awkwardly.
Thoughtfully.
Sipho finally broke the silence.
“I’ve been thinking…”
“What?”
“I don’t think the people who changed my life ever knew they were doing it.”
David nodded.
“My teacher probably forgot those conversations years ago.”
“My aunt would say she didn’t do anything special,” Naledi added.
Uncle Joseph leaned back in his chair.
“Maybe that’s the point.”
Everyone looked at him.
“The people who shape us aren’t usually trying to shape us.”
“They’re just being themselves.”
Outside, the football game came to an end.
The children wandered home in different directions.
Someone switched on a porch light across the road.
Sipho smiled.
“You know…”
“What?”
“I wonder whose story we’re part of.”
Nobody answered.
It didn’t feel like a question that needed one.
The kettle clicked softly in the kitchen.
David stood to make another pot of tea.
As he reached for the cups, he smiled.
“Maybe becoming yourself has always been a team effort.”
No one spoke.
There wasn’t much left to say.
Sometimes the people who change our lives never realise they were holding the ladder while we learned to climb.
END
Who comes to mind when you hear the question:
"Who helped you become the person you are?"
What did they do?
Was it one big moment...
or many small ones?
Which part of their kindness, courage, patience, or example still lives in you today?
Today, notice who remembers your name.
Notice who asks how you're doing...
and waits for the answer.
Notice the people whose quiet presence makes ordinary days feel a little lighter.
The people shaping us are often the ones we barely notice.
```This week, think of someone who quietly shaped your life.
Perhaps send a message.
Perhaps make a phone call.
Perhaps simply say,
"I've been thinking about you lately.
Thank you."
You may discover they never realised the difference they made.
```Pull Up a Chair
Every one of us carries someone else’s fingerprints on our story.
Who helped shape yours?
Tell us about one person you’ll never forget—and why.
Join the Circle.
We’d love to hear your story.
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