I see your eyes…
In 2015, I had the privilege of visiting the Shangri-La Bosphorus in Istanbul to conduct a Quality Diagnostic Review and Training sessions on Guest Engagement, Problem Handling, Guest Journey Mapping, and Brown Paper Flowcharting. It was an enriching experience, but what left an indelible mark on me was an unexpected encounter that followed.
After the workshop, a gentleman approached me with a warm smile. He introduced himself as a veteran of the hospitality industry, having worked in hotels across Istanbul for over 35 years. “This is my first time attending such a workshop,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “I truly enjoyed it.” His words touched me deeply—simple yet profound, a testament to how moments of learning can rekindle passion even for seasoned professionals.
Later that evening, I requested an extra pillow from Housekeeping, as I was experiencing discomfort in my neck. Not long after, there was a knock at my door. To my surprise, it was the same gentleman, this time with pillows in hand. When he noticed my discomfort, he inquired kindly about it. Upon learning of my neck pain, he respectfully offered to help. I accepted his gesture, and he gently massaged my back for a few minutes. “You should feel better now,” he said, his tone filled with genuine care. As he was about to leave, he paused and thanked me once again for the workshop. Then, looking directly at me, he said something that caught me off guard:
“I see your eyes,” he said, his finger pointing to my chest.
For years, I reflected on his words, unsure of their significance, until a serendipitous moment brought clarity. The other day, I watched a Turkish movie on Netflix called Mucize (Miracle). The film tells the story of a devoted teacher who leaves his family to serve in a remote village. The villagers, having waited decades for an educator, are transformed by his passion and perseverance.
In one poignant scene, the village chief observes the teacher patiently guiding his disabled son to write and draw. Moved by this act of compassion, he says, “Some people have eyes in their hearts. They see the world through those eyes... they see everything through those eyes. May God always guide you to kind-hearted people.”
I paused the movie, overcome with emotion. At that moment, I understood what the gentleman in Istanbul meant.
His words, “I see your eyes,” were not about sight but about the ability to connect—to see with the heart, to teach and inspire through kindness and intention.
I was deeply humbled by this realization. To be seen as a teacher is an honor, but it also carries a profound responsibility. I cannot claim to embody kindness in its purest form, yet I strive to pour my heart and soul into every workshop, review, and training session I conduct. My goal has always been simple: to impart knowledge and ignite a passion for learning in those who attend.
Mucize is one of the most beautiful films I have ever seen, a story that touches the heart and soul. It is a tribute to the teachers, mentors, and learning professionals who shape lives, often without realizing the depth of their impact. I encourage you to watch it—not just as a film, but as a reminder of the power of kindness, passion, and the eyes in our hearts that guide us to truly see one another.