Virginia showed up in the “Long Game” baseball chats. That was the first place I saw her. She would drop in a witty comment or two, or maybe more often reply to someone else’s comment. But she was a regular, and a delight, and always ready with a heart or a laugh emoji. Always.

We had a vibe. I don’t know why, but we did. Actually, I do know why; it was because Virginia had good energy and responded with good energy, and on my side I was just at the point of breaking out of my post-pandemic, mid-breakup malaise and anger. Virginia was there with a heart and a laugh, and little by little I would think, I can do this.

I was just blogging then. Well, I was working and blogging. I was still at the Death Star, and the end was nigh - the writing had been on the wall for a while, as my remit was cut from six teams totalling 34 people, to one team of ten, to half a team of five. It sucked, and one side of me was constantly pondering, How am I going to get out of this place? and the other half was pondering, What am I going to do when they kick me out? My blogging was half-hearted, with not enough space and time. I was still running a theater company then, too, or maybe we - meaning I - had started the process of shutting things down.

I was just writing, without much direction. But I would post something, and Virginia would be there with a heart. Or a comment. I'm not begging here, the last thing I want is for you to do anything because I was begging, but damn those hearts and comments help.

Here’s one:

This was just what I needed at this moment. Thank you Chris! You’ve touched my heart and soul. 💚🧡♥️💙💗🌈🏳️‍🌈♥️💗🧡

That was in response to a post called “The Need to Care,” and based on what I know about Virginia now, it’s not at all surprising that she might have responded that way. She spent her life giving and caring.

I didn’t know that then. Virginia was a a kind person, a delightful person, but in the main, to me, a person at the other end of the internet.

One morning, sitting in my kitchen, I finished my morning pages and started reading the emails.

I would tell you how I felt upon reading that, but the language doesn’t exist. I had to read it several times to understand. I stood and paced. I felt a level of incomprehension and disbelief that was literally painful.

I was just blogging then. And someone, someone I didn’t know, not my mom, was telling me in no uncertain terms: This is worth something.

I sent her a somewhat disbelieving thank you, of course. And she replied with a warm “you’re welcome,” and:

I believe in you. Believe in yourself.

How much this changed things.

I was still working at the Death Star, and I didn’t want to tell them about my side hustle, so I didn't throw the payments switch immediately. But on that morning, suddenly, officially, I became a writer, the sort of writer people pay money to read. The road ahead was, is, long and bumpy. But the road had appeared.

When I did finally start taking payments, after the Evil Empire had laid me off a year or so later, I gave Virginia a heads-up. She replied in her Virginia way:

I’m stopping there. It hurts too much. Just: what an enormous gift that was, that $50 pledge. A gift worth infinitely more than its monetary value.

Find some person in your life, maybe someone who would never expect it, and do some small thing to help make their own road appear.