Last Friday I walked into the bank and stood in line with several other customers. I observed the other people, read the news scrolling across the TV screen, and tried ever so diligently to be patient. (It was a slow line, and I was tired.) Finally, it was my turn.I looked up and met the teller's eyes as he said, "Hi, Karen. How may I assist you today?" And that nearly did me in. I thought to myself, He knows my name! I'm not just another deposit to make, or check to cash. I'm a person, and he knows my name! I know bank tellers and cashiers and many other customer-service-type-folk often use your name after you've handed them something with your name on it. They can read, and it is appropriate for them to use your name after they've read it. I think it's a nice touch. But Lionel (I read his name tag!) said my name before I even approached the counter. He knew my name, and that made me feel so happy. I have thought about this interaction several times over the past few days. And each time I consider the delight I felt because someone knew my name, I realize one of my great desires: I want to be known.I'm not talking about "known" as in being famous. I don't mean my desire is for "Karen Hossink" to be the name which comes to mind whenever a woman thinks of someone she'd like to invite to her church to speak to a ladies group. Although that'd be OK with me. *wink* I mean I want to be known, as in - I don't want to be just another customer at the bank, or member in the pew at church, or mom in line for conferences. I don't want to be anonymous, just another face in the crowd. I am somebody - a unique individual - and I want someone to KNOW me. And Friday, when Lionel called me by name, I felt known. I wasn't "Next!" or "Ma'am" or "Good afternoon". I was "Karen". And he knew it. How about you? Can you relate to this desire to be known?