BY BONNIE LEE STRUNK

Special to The Press

I remember the snowman.

Why he came to mind recently is not perfectly clear, but I think it is because we tend to remember the extremes in our lives - the really good and the really bad.

In this case, the snowman falls into the good category.

When I recently was reminiscing about holidays past, I concluded that experiences have much more of an impact on our memories than acquisitions do.

What people do, rather than what material possessions they give us, is what matters.

Reminisce with any senior adult and you will see.

The snowman, for example, was a gift that was cherished by a shut-in elderly neighbor until she died.

I visited her often and, while she and I were chatting one day during a snowstorm, she casually mentioned she’d never had a snowman.

Her labor-laden childhood afforded little time for play.

So I built a splendid snowman - with a colorful hat and scarf and a carrot nose - in her backyard, right outside her kitchen window.

I think she fell in love.

Her happiness and gratitude left me speechless.

Apparently, this simple gesture was the ultimate gift to her.

In her mind, I was a hero.

She ushered every visitor, from the pastor to the fuel-oil man, to that enchanted window to see her wonderful frozen friend.

I prayed the cold winter weather would last for many months.

And I realized how true is the Biblical passage from Acts: “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

Her joy from gazing at the jolly snowman thrilled me. And it cost me nothing but time.

Remembering the excitement my snowman brought to this 95-year-old lady reminded me of another neighbor in his 90s who also valued and remembered experiences more than material possessions.

He was residing in an assisted living facility and, on his birthday and Christmas, received the attention and gifts usually accorded a nonagenarian on such occasions.

Yet, his favorite present was a brief car ride across the busy street to visit his late wife’s grave.

He was feeble and mobility-impaired, so he was unable to get to the cemetery that he could see daily whenever he looked out his window.

That simple gesture of kindness by a staffer at his facility became one of his most treasured memories.

I also recall attending an older friend’s birthday party, where he, too, received lavish attention and charming gifts.

But his most cherished present was the surprise visit of two Navy buddies whom he had not seen since their service together in Vietnam.

More than 15 years later he still beams whenever he talks about that unexpected visit.

In all these instances, what these folks valued most were priceless and long-remembered experiences that made them happy.

Certainly most of our day-to-day exchanges are not particularly memorable.

But once in a while we have an unusually good or unusually bad experience, and that is the one we tend to remember and talk about often.

The kindnesses and the injustices are the moments that stand out in our minds.

When other people recall their personal or professional interactions with us, will it be because the experience was exceptionally good, or because it was exceptionally bad?

Like many individuals, I want to be unforgettable, but not for the wrong reasons.

Our actions today will determine how we are remembered tomorrow.