Ida was a cheerful presence at the Berkeley campus health service. Our regular friendly banter took a serious turn when a professor spilled his lunch outside his door, making a terrible mess and just went inside, leaving the mess untouched. I  asked Ida  to leave the mess and not clean it up for him. I was outraged that he would behave in such a rude manner. Ida agreed not to clean it up on two conditions: first I wait three days before reporting him to the dean and second, on the third day, I go down the hall, knock on his door and ask him in a neutral tone.  to clean up his mess.  She then shared his story with me and I realized that Ida was gifted in her empathy and good will towards everyone . Our friendship began that day and my admiration for her continued to grow over the years. After leaving the mess in front of his office door for 3 days I knocked on his door, told him I thought it was disrespectful to expect someone else to pick up his mess and received a heartfelt and entirely unexecpected apology. Ida was right, he just needed some time and a gentle reminder! My first instinct was to really make him feel ashamed of his childish action.  

When I was promoted Ida gifted me a handsome tree limb that she found on the grounds. She polished it and had one of the fellows sand it down. She presented it with a teaching story of her version of, be kind but carry a big stick - she said it would both supoort me and be a sturdy reminder that I would need to lean on others now and then for strength. When I retired, I passed on this beloved item to the next director and retold Ida’s lesson in the public ceremony. I believe that fellow passed it on and so her memory  continues in a place where people loved her dearly. The world has lost one of its brightest lights!