It is easy to get lost in the shuffle, the crowds and cacophony of life. After all, we are one of a billion other people that populate the surface of this earth. Yet, John Donne says in one of his poems entitled, No Man is an Island; “No man is an island, entire of itself, every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.” 

In the big scheme of life then, how do we know for sure that we matter? How do we know if our lives count for much of anything? 

         Am I significant?

Growing up in a large family, Mom called me, “number six”. Not a very endearing term. Along with that, my siblings teasingly told me I was adopted, giving me the feeling that I did not quite belong to the family like they did. 

As long as I can remember, I’ve had a serious personality along with an underdeveloped sense of humor. So of course, I never saw the funny side to Mom’s term for me, or the silly side to my siblings’ comment about how I did not qualify to be one of the official members of the family. But, thankfully, the story does not end there. 

Instead, I had a dad for a long enough period of time who instilled in me that at least to him, I was special. Dad understood and allowed me enough space to be my quirky self. It was the best feeling to be around him. I knew that in his presence, I did not have to garrison myself from any hurtful comments or painful teasing. He’d proven to me that I could be just me and I mattered to him, until that is, he abruptly ended his life. 

But even with his life ending the way that it did, his final act did not discount or dissolve  the sense of belonging he gave to me. Instead, what he gave me remained. 

Knowing that I mattered to my dad planted a very important concept into my life; I mattered to someone. I was important, special and known by someone.  When I fell in love and married my husband, his idea of me was not too difficult to believe. Someone had once loved and accepted me. Someone had once said I was special. The truth my father left with me naturally connected itself with the truth my husband now told me. 

Why bother knowing we matter? Knowing that we matter to someone gives us a sense of belonging and belonging matters to us all.