Miss Rumphius, who by that time was quite old, leaned over and looked directly into the eyes of the children who were visiting.  She said, “It’s all fine and well my dears that when you grow up you want to travel to far-away places as I did, and when you get old, to build yourself a house overlooking the sea just like me, but there is a third thing each of you must do.”

“What’s that?” asked the children.

“Each and every one of you must do something to make the world more beautiful.”

The children promised that when they grew up, they would.

When I first discovered Barbara Cooney’s picture book, Miss Rumphius, I knew immediately it was a story that I wanted to tell to both children and adults alike.

 Its message about creating beauty in the world resonated deeply. 

The story is about a young girl who is charged by her artist grandfather in her youth to “make the world more beautiful” and she gives her word she will.  She spends her professional life working as a librarian, and also traveling to far-a-way places (just as her grandfather did) where she meets people she will never, ever forget. Many years later, when she is exploring the land of the lotus eaters, she hurts her back climbing down from a camel.  She says, “I guess it’s time for me to build that house overlooking the sea.” It was and she did.

But that one promise she made to her grandfather so many years before, eludes her. 

What could she do to make the worked more beautiful?

Miss Rumphius spends almost a year convalescing from her injured back. Finally, one beautiful spring day Miss Rumphius puts on her jacket and goes for a walk up the hill behind her house, something she’s not done for a very long time. Much to her amazement, she discovers that the lupine seeds she planted the year before between the rocky places around her house have been carried by the wind and the birds to flower in the fields beyond.

And that’s when she realizes how she can fulfill her promise to her grandfather.

Miss Rumphius orders five bushels of seeds from the finest house and fills her pockets.  She goes for walks and tosses them “behind the church and the schoolyard, along the country lanes and the highways and throws handfuls of seeds along the brick walls.” 

Even though people now call her “that crazy Lupine Lady,” she doesn’t care.  And Miss Rumphius notices something.  Her back doesn’t bother her so much anymore.  

The next spring, everywhere she looks, there are lupines growing, purple, blue and rose-colored.

Miss Rumphius has fulfilled her promise to her grandfather.  She has done something to make the world more beautiful.

Now, in her parlor, she is passing that message on to the children come to visit.

A beautiful book with a profound message.

When I recast this story for oral storytelling and began performing it, people immediately responded.  Young and old alike. The message struck a chord and opened up conversation about using our gifts, whatever they might be, to make the world more beautiful.

I started telling Miss Rumphius in 1984 just about the time I began traveling to the former Soviet Union.  And I noticed something in Russia and Ukraine.  The halls and classrooms of the English-Speaking schools and Pioneer Palaces were bare. No art or decoration to be seen anywhere.  

And I got to thinking.

What would it be like to invite US school children, church groups, community groups, and artisans to illustrate their favorite stories on fabric banners and gift them to schools and pioneer palaces in Russia and Ukraine?  What would it be like to include a copy of the story and handwritten letters conveying our desire for peace between our countries as part of my Young Storytellers for Peace and Teachers for Peace exchange program that I was launching?  Might that be a way of creating beauty in the world? And might it be a way of engaging more people in our vision for peace by sharing beloved literary, folk and fairytales of American children? 

I promoted the idea at public gatherings, in emails, and with the press.  People responded.  Their creations were breathtaking. Children arrived at their schools early to work on hand-stitching and painting banners, grandmothers quilted, accomplished artisans added their contributions.  Between 1985 and 1987, we gifted over two hundred works of art—Story Banners– to Soviet schools and pioneer palaces. 

The hallways and classrooms were bare no more.  But more importantly, each banner was infused with love and intention, illustrating stories that transcended cultural and ideological barriers and spoke directly to the heart.  

It was the story of Miss Rumphius that I told when introducing the US/USSR Story banner Project in the US.

 One Sunday morning, I was speaking at a Unity church, when a woman in the audience was so moved by the story, she actually created a Miss Rumphius banner! She hand-stitched on the back, “You told a story that touched my heart.  I love you.”  And then gifted it to me at our exhibition of the banners at the Bellevue Art Museum in Washington State prior to our departure.

She told me I could give it away or keep it.

I chose to keep it.   

And display it when I told the story in the former USSR.

The story of Miss Rumphius was featured on the front page of The Odessa News in Ukraine where it was enjoyed by millions.

The story was also highlighted in the USSR Young Pioneer publication.

And the message of making the world more beautiful didn’t stop there!

The Miss Rumphius banner and story has traveled with me to hundreds of corporate storytelling workshops in the US, India and Central America. I’ve invited leaders to consider how they might make the world more beautiful.  And because beauty encompasses so many different things, the story of Miss Rumphius has ignited thoughtful, insightful conversation that might not have occurred without it.  

The Miss Rumphius banner was framed by a bank of flowers at my mother’s memorial service in 1987. I told the story and then gave all the attendees packages of lupine seeds to plant in her honor.

When my nephew’s wife Erin was battling cancer and overwhelmed and disheartened by the sights and sounds of her hospital room, I asked her what she would like it to look like.  “A seaside spa,” she replied. When Erin was wheeled away for yet more tests, I went shopping.

Four hours later when Erin returned, her sterile room had been transformed. A tufted turquoise quilt now covered her hospital bed. A crystal lamp emitted a warm and healing light, a blown glass ornament rested at her bedside and a weathered shabby chic sign on the bookshelf read, “Love is the only language spoken here.” Silk flower arrangements and the covering and pillows on the daybed embodied the colors of the sand, sea and sunset.  

 Erin wept. 

In the midst of this devastating situation, she was ensconced in her “spa by the sea.” Each time Erin entered the hospital during the 20 months she battled cancer (7 rounds of chemo and a bone marrow transplant), her spa came with her. And her reality, even for a brief moment, became more beautiful.

That’s the power and reach of a single story. 

Because when a story reaches deep inside of you…

When its message lasts way beyond the telling

When it becomes your north star….

Transformation happens.

The world is changed.

And we are changed along with it.