Bonn reminds me of my Potsdam years, going to school in a pretty town next to a bigger city. It's college and Cologne for Bonn, it was high school and Berlin for Potsdam. First boyfriend, first time drunk, first naked night swim. Memories wave everywhere in that town. While strolling through Potsdam's streets yesterday I realized it is the perfect place for raising kids. Apparently I am not the only one thinking that. I saw more pregnant women than in Prenzlberg. For a reason: This town isn't only full of wonderful historic architecture and located next to Europe's current cultural capital but also full of green, small enough for me to meet people five years after graduation, packed with awesome gastronomy, bursting with high class concerts, intellectually stimulating (there's a University, too).. I can see how moms and dads choose Potsdam over Berlin. What the place lacks in excitement it tempers with feelgood factor. It makes you sigh and hum and close your eyes for a moment to enjoy. I went to school on a peninsula! The transport system: A ferry. There are enough rich people who can afford pieces of art offered in little shops and boutiques. They are the reason, too, for Potsdam regaining it's pretty face. All the old buildings were restored once the GDR had ended and wealthy Berliners moved to Potsdam.

Unfortunately it rained (that's why the pictures don't smile as broadly as they could). Shortly before I left the sky cleared up:

These pictures were taken in Bornstedt. Before I was at the Orangerie in Park Sanssouci:

I first returned to Potsdam a year ago. That is when I rediscovered Anna's flower shop (Jägerstraße 39), too. Today I complimented her.

Who?
Anna
Where?
Potsdam, Germany
What?
"I love your shop. You have created a piece of paradise. The forms, the interior and of course the flowers... Amazing taste. The whole room is traversed by your warmth. Coming here is a real treat. "
How did she react?
I could feel she was touched. She sighed. "Thank you!", opened her arms and we hugged. 
How did I feel?
I remember that day vividly. I was on my way to meet a friend from school when I passed the flower shop. Only a few weeks earlier one of our former classmates had passed away and we were going to visit his grave. Anna had known him, too. When I entered her shop and told her about our plan she gave me the rose I wanted to bring for free. The circumstances created a strange connection between us. I felt very close to her even though I'd never known her well and it had been years since I last saw her. Death brings people together. I hadn't experienced that before. It was hard, the whole day was hard. Meeting Anna, standing in her shop, smelling the flowers and feeling her warm eyes rest on me soothed me. 
Her softness and her loving way were moving again when I saw her yesterday. I was going to the cemetery and afresh she was- there. She is a person to be grateful for. Some time has passed since last year. I still miss my friend yet I am less shocked. I had more space for appreciating her shop. Looking around I realized how carefully she chooses the plants. She arranges them in the most aesthetic way. Her visual sense is amazing, both in terms of floristics and interior design. 
Her receiving the compliment made me happy. When I left I felt everything at once: Moved, happy, filled with affection, sad and glad there is Anna and her shop. 

One more thing: So I mentioned the town's full of great gastronomy. If you happen to visit here's a few suggestions where to eat: 

Trattoria Pane e Vino. Amazing Pasta.

Backstolz. Amazing cakes.

Waschbar. Amazing washing machines with ladie's names. And coffee. Great coffee. I stole the picture from their website

Last but not least: 
A student's joy, the Kebab. Cheap and filling. The one and only Potsdam Kebab is XXL. It's family run. They serve the classics at classic hours. Stop by for a midnight Döner and check out their amazing curry sauce!

My high school. image source

Who?
Cathrin
Where?
Potsdam, Germany
What?
You are a great teacher. 
How did she react?
She hasn't yet. I will forward her this link.
How did I feel? 
Every compliment is a thank you: By complimenting someone I am actually thanking them for a piece of light they put out in the world. Some candidates radiate consciously, some don't. Some do it on purpose while playing music, baking cakes or growing an awesome beard- others just let it happen. They shine through their smiles or the way they move. 
Obviously there is a second part involved: It takes sensitivity on the observer's side. That's what I am training in this project. I want to perceive the little pieces of light around me. So yes, every compliment is a thank you and just like any other thank you it needs something to be thankful for and someone to say and feel it.

Yesterday I talked to a deprived school teacher. Her stories filled me with respect for her strength, devotion and endurance. When she was finished I said: "These kids are going to thank you to the moon and back some day, for not giving up on them no matter how huge their resistance was." 
When we'd said goodbye I kept thinking about her. And about teachers. And about how amazingly blessed I have been with all those loving and competent ones in my life. I realized: This project is my chance to thank them. By complimenting them. Or just saying thank you. Apparently, same thing anyways...

What exactly was it they gave to me?
Let's start with Cathrin. To me, she was Mrs. Könnecke. 
She taught Biology. I was in her class in 11th grade. She'd just finished her degree, she was young and rode her bike to school every day. I remember she had one of those cool bike bags. Practical and aesthetic. But it wasn't that. It wasn't the fact that her hair was the prettiest I'd ever seen around school either. 
It was her drive. She was on fire. She watched We Feed The World with us, an amazing and disturbing documentary on food waste and -production. There were baby chickens taken down an assembly line that automatically threw them into boxes. Many of them died- so what. Trucks delivering tons of fresh bread to a garbage dump- see, prices must be saved. Fish ceased, fields poisoned, kids malnourished. It was horrible. (It still is.) When the film was over everyone sat in silence. We were devastated. For a while nothing happened. Then the bell ringed. 
But Mrs Könnecke didn't let us leave like that. Instead she got up and said: "Now it's important you understand you don't have to be part of the game. There are other ways. There is something you can do, even you. You have a choice, I have a choice. We all do. Choose the farmer's market over the discount store. Start growing your own things. Even if it's just tomatoes, it's worth something. Say no to an extra plastic bag. Get a lunch box. Support small, local shops. You can make a difference, no matter how small it seems, it's worth it."
I will never forget that. "There are other ways." She was standing upright, her eyes sparkling. And I thought: "Wow."
She taught genetics. I still know: Prophase, Metaphase, Anaphase, Telophase- 8 years later. She knew what she was doing. Her structures were distinct, I never felt lost in her class.
Sure, it was all that. Yet there was something more. If you ask me that something is essential. It draws the division line between a good and a bad teacher: Mrs. Könnecke was a great teacher not only because she was passionate and skillful. It was because she believed in me and conveyed that. She saw the light in me, trusting my abilities both intellectually and personally. And she managed to make me feel she did. It was in the way she looked at me and talked to me. There was respect. And love. For what she was doing- and for me. It's people like her who have made me start believing in the person I am and realize I am beautiful, I've got something to give and to say. A perception to trust, a heart to honor and a talent to work for.
I can't think of anything more valuable than that. 
Thank you so much, Mrs Könnecke.