The Law of the Letter
It was just a letter, after all. But I came to see I had it
all wrong.
Years ago as a young lawyer I got a call from an older
gentleman who had a problem with a bill he had received. He was shaken that he was getting past-due letters.
I wrote a letter as a courtesy to the service provider to
straighten out the facts, and it worked.
A quick conference and quick letter carried the day, and
that was that. I brought no special skill or talent to the task. Just my time,
and my everyday sorting-out-the-facts experience. The successful result would
not get this matter spotlighted in N C Lawyers Weekly, but I came to see its
success was of a different kind.
My initial too-narrow view of the value I had rendered
changed over the next seven days. I received in rapid order a heartfelt voicemail
message from the older gentleman, another vm message from his only child in
Richmond expressing deep thanks for helping his growing-more-disoriented
widowed dad, and a following letter from the older gentleman himself in his
shaky handwriting. The older gentleman was a product of the Great Depression,
and his worry touched a tap root of one of his bedrock values: you pay your bills, and on time.
I never saw my pro-bono client again. But I held on to his
emotional letter of gratitude for many years. When I braved to clean out my
desk’s center drawer I would read it again.
It served to remind me of the charge, even in my active, swirling days
as a busy lawyer, to find and give out the special currency of kindness I carried
with me, much like the idle pocket change I carried home, unused, every day.
And to appreciate again the power of what I had for so long mistakenly viewed
as an ordinary thing.
Sometimes the most ordinary of problems contains any number
of possible legal threads. If you slip too far into gauging what you don’t
know, you miss the chance to solve what you do know: the importance of addressing real problems
with real people by simply framing the basic facts and options and lending them
your sorting-out voice of experience. And volunteering to do what many callers
would often not know to do on their own: writing a quick letter, making a
needed phone call, nudging another party to make a matter right, or making sure
a more timid soul is not unfairly
disadvantaged.
The solutions are often less about the letter of the
law—knowing every little thing about every little part —than about the law of
the letter: simply taking the time to offer your experience as a calibrator of
facts and options when you allow another’s real life dilemma to catch your eye. And you do not have to be a lawyer to do
that.
If you are a lawyer, provide any appropriate disclaimers a
rough summary of a set of facts may require. Who knows? A years-later answer to
a small question penned by the N C Court of Appeals could be an important one.
But your most important task now is
likely how you answer in the court of life what a Nobel Laureate stated is
life’s most persistent and urgent question: what are you doing today for
others?
What I’ve learned about life on the way to the courthouse is
this: You possess a deep and valuable skill as a problem solver. You do yourself and others a disservice if
you do not step out a bit and take more chances on the law of the letter. A
chance you can help every-day citizens try to shed the tug and pull of some of
life’s everyday problems, no matter how ordinary and routine those problems may
seem to you. They certainly are not ordinary or routine to them.
The busiest among us, whatever your profession, will tell
you a call or letter here and there in a full week of activity is not going
impact adversely your ability to get your other tasks done for your family and
your organization. And my, my, my, the good
you can do.
My sense from this and other experiences is you have no real
idea of the value you can render to others. Wordsworth called these “little unremembered
acts of kindness.” You won’t get your
name up in lights, but isn’t that the point? While some may be amazed by your
acts of kindness, try surprising them anyway.
Because kindness, especially for discerners of facts and solutions, is
calibrated in different ways. And sometimes
it’s sweetly measured out one letter at a time, in the disguise of a seemingly
ordinary thing.