I haven’t seen Charles in a month of Sundays, but even before he turned my direction after I called out “Sir Charles” to him in the parking lot, I could feel the effect of his friendly smile. Handshakes, a hug and a brief conversation ensued in the parking lot of a Kroger grocery in League City, TX. I told him that I continued to tell the world about him and that any time that I spoke in the community and referenced him, at least a couple people in the audience knows him. He smiled in an “aww shucks” sort of way.

Charles is a stocker. But that is only a job title. What he does is connect people to the store at which he has worked for many years. He does it by smiling, caring, conversing and helping out. Ask him where anything is, and he can tell you. But, you likely won’t have a chance to ask because he can see a lost look in a customer’s eyes and is quick to say, “Hello, can I help you?”

I wrote about Charles more than a decade ago for my Listen to Life newsletter, and his story appeared in my book, Listen to Life: Wisdom in Life’s Stories. His is on page 99 if you have the book. I have shared the wisdom of his ways since we first met. I told him the other day that I still share his story. In fact, I had used his story just a few days ago in a team development workshop that I conducted for a local nonprofit.

The conversation continued in the store when I returned to bring him another copy of the book. I asked how his mom was doing. We used to talk about her when I would see him on my grocery runs. She died five years ago, he said. I couldn’t believe how long it had been since we had conversed. He said his mom was proud of him for being in the book. I felt badly that it had been so long and I was years late in sharing my condolences.

I’m glad that I was in the parking lot when I was, that Charles was getting out of his car while I drove by, and that we had a chance to talk. I’m even glad that fate served to remind me how important it is to stay in contact with people, no matter how you know them. A month of Sundays is much too long.

In baseball, signals reveal plans, strategies, insights and sometimes, they are used to throw off the opposition. Signals matter.

The father-son team that I met recently are also a coach-player duo, and they realize how important clear signals really are. Clear communications indicate intent, purpose and meaning.

The father-coach was discussing the challenges of how to coach one’s child, and conveyed a conversation that he had with another father-coach. Having played that role well over a dozen times myself, I was intrigued by his wisdom. We both agreed that a parent can’t play favorites with their own child. The negative aspects of doing so can poison an entire team. Finding a way to be fair is the main challenge. The relationship with the team is one thing, but the relationship between parent and child is altogether more important. It is through this perspective that he saw a solution. A brilliant solution. A nugget of wisdom for life.

He described situations when his son is near a group of kids who are acting up. The dad-coach calls out discipline and/or correction, spoken to his son but actually aimed at the kids nearby. It tends to catch youngsters’ attention when the coach is calling out his own kid’s name. He can easily call out, using his son’s name to command “you guys cut it out.” Here’s the clincher: If the comment is not really directed at his son, but he is only using his son’s name to help get the desired effect with the other nearby players, the dad-coach pats his chest over his heart while calling out. His son immediately knows the meaning of the signal. Such signal gestures are not uncommon in baseball; this particular use of a signal certainly is, though.

We could all do a better job of giving signals to reinforce or clarify our communications and messages. Tone, body language, gestures and expressions are only a few of the clarifiers that we can use. Kind words alone are nice, but accompanied by a wink or a hug or a smile creates clarity and value. Strong words are sometimes necessary, and other signals can help keep the words from being damaging. In baseball, coaches go to great lengths to be sure the players understand meaning, plays and strategies. We should go through such efforts for clarity in life. Signals matter.