My Dad, Roy Seth
My father's work as an airline pilot, took him across the country and around the world, quite regularly. Wherever he landed, he had a quiet habit. He'd buy a local postcard and mail it to someone in his community who was walking through a hard time. No explanation given...just a simple message: "Be Encouraged, someone in Sydney is thinking of you."
He passed away from cancer in 2010 and at his funeral, person after person stood up to share what those postcards had meant to them personally. These were people carrying heavy loads, navigating broken relationships and walking through dark seasons. They shared about finding courage in an unsigned note from someone who would take the time and small expense to do something just for them.
Our family was overwhelmed by the love shared by strangers. That moment taught me something I've never forgotten. A small gesture, sent at the right time, can help hold someone together.
" A small gesture, sent at the right time, can help hold someone together."
My Dad & I Tuna Fishing
One of his bucket list items.
My Dad
The Last Four Months
When my father's cancer reached its final stage, my parents temporarily moved closer so I could assist as a caregiver. People who loved us showed up to visit and say goodbye. It was one of the hardest things to watch. Yet we still were present many days following, navigating emotions, often alone. There is a particular silence that comes with terminal illness. People who loved us deeply sometimes kept their distance, not because they didn't care, but because they didn't know how to show up.
One day, a friend quietly dropped off a few cards with beautiful images and encouraging words. I displayed them with tape in multiple locations around his house. I put them up next to his bed and the wall he faced during the long hours of rest. Those cards created a noticeably positive change in him and us, his caregivers.
I kept adding more down the hallway and along the short path he walked each day. One afternoon he couldn't make it all the way to his room without stopping. He leaned against the wall, exhausted. His eyes fell on a card showing an image of a waterfall with a piece of scripture. He was still for a long moment and then he smiled and finished his walk.
Such a small thing, but in our mountain of discouragement, it was a victory.
An Invitation
A visit with a friend lasts an hour, maybe two, but there are 22 more hours in a day when someone is facing an illness or lonely days. Those might be hours of suffering, of fear, of wondering if anyone remembers you're still here.
That's when tangible reminders matter most.
Be Encouraged was born from those final months with my father and the legacy of his unsigned postcards.
Each box holds art from independent artists. Things to hang, to hold, and to return to. Cards they can set up for the long days, as quiet reminders that they are loved, seen, and not alone.
My Why
If this story resonates with you, I invite you to pass it on. Send a box to someone walking a hard road. It might make their day, their path, just a spark brighter. Because sometimes, the smallest gesture is exactly what someone needs to take the next step.
With encouragement,
Robyn Seth Myers
Founder, Be Encouraged
A portion of every purchase supports cancer research in honor of Capt. Roy Allen Seth, USN (Ret).
Words that Might Help
from someone who's been there
What to do:
You don't need the right words. You need real words.
What to say:
"I don't know exactly what to say, but I'm not going anywhere."
Making a Difference
My father received care at Fred Hutch in Seattle. We experienced real compassion there, and witnessed the kind of research that changes lives. In his honor, 5% from every box supports Fred Hutch and the families like ours who are walking that road today.
Fred Hutch Cancer Center is a global leader uniting innovative research and compassionate care to prevent and eliminate cancer and infectious disease.
