When I was 13 or 14 years old I was in my school counselor’s office crying about something. I don’t remember what the issue was anymore. I don’t remember anything about that day or about my conversation with her except that she handed me a tissue so I could take care of my running nose before continuing.

The caring she displayed by doing that made an impression so strong that I can still feel the emotion all these decades later.

She didn’t shut the conversation down, she facilitated it by giving me the means to compose myself and carry on.

It’s interesting that someone would think otherwise.