Because I Knew You
Look, I’ve never seen Wicked.
I know. I know. It’s unthinkable. It’s everything I love—Broadway, Oz, allegory, great music, campy costumes—all of it. But somehow, I never read the book, never listened to the original Broadway cast recording, never saw the show, and now…I haven’t seen the film either.
For whatever reason, it’s always been on the periphery—just outside my reach, never quite important enough to prioritize. But the songs are everywhere, and one of them found its way to me. At the very end of the story, Glinda and Elphaba (the witches of the North and West, respectively) sing to each other about how their friendship has changed them forever.
The line that stuck with me?
"Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
That got me thinking about all the ways I’ve been changed by the people who’ve come into my life—whether they were there for a season, many years, or forever—and how deeply grateful I am for each of them.
So often, we don’t send the message, make the call, or take the time to show people how much they’ve impacted us. And yet, they’re with us all the time. How often do you prepare something in the kitchen and think fondly of the person who taught you the best way to slice an onion?
We eat demonstrably more onions than we tell people how much they matter to us. Of this, I am certain—I’d bet the whole allium farm on it.
So here’s my challenge to you:
Send a text or email to someone who crosses your mind often. (If you actually place a phone call and it connects—or you leave a voicemail—you get 100 extra bonus points!)
We tend to overestimate how much time these connections will take. Especially my peers—we convince ourselves that if we call someone, we’ll:
- Startle them.
- Be stuck on the phone longer than we have the stamina for.
- Hear bad news.
Only the first one is true. And the only way to make phone calls feel neutral—or even positive—again is to make more short, positive calls to people we enjoy hearing from.
Say:
"Hey, I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to tell you how often I use that pasta sauce recipe you shared. It really does make for the best flavor, and I think about you every time I make it."
Write:
"No need to respond; all is well—I’m just texting because I was thinking about that Ray LaMontagne album we listened to a hundred and forty times in college, and it made me miss you."
Send:
"Your class completely changed how I view agriculture in this country. I’ve never been the same since. Thank you for all you’ve done and continue to do."
This lifetime is short, and it will end.
But your legacy extends far beyond what you leave behind. It stretches across the universe and includes how people felt when they were around you, the behaviors they learned from you, and the impact you made.
Let yourself be remembered as someone who was tender—someone who reached out about the little things, made people’s day, and let them know they mattered. Someone who truly saw.
If you end up doing it, reply to this email (or comment if you’re reading this online) and let me know. I’d love to tell you I’m proud of you, which I absolutely will be—because you did the thing.
Love,
Margaret
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