My husband called a customer service line recently with a very simple question.

“Can you tell me if our account includes electric coverage?”

That was it. A quick check. A quick answer. Or so we thought.

What followed was a 45-minute conversation that reminded me just how rare, and powerful, truly great service has become.

The representative, Debbie, confirmed that we didn’t have electric coverage, but that we did have full plumbing coverage. Then, calmly and clearly, she walked through what electric coverage actually includes: up to $2,500 for panels, electrical boxes, fuses, and related issues. No rush. No script-y pressure.

Then she asked a thoughtful follow-up question:“How old is your house?”

Based on the age of the home, she recommended adding external sewer line coverage, explaining the real risk factors and the cost of repairs if something were to go wrong. Up to $10,000 in coverage. Again, no fear tactics. Just facts, context, and options.

She answered every question patiently. She stayed present. She weighed risk versus incremental cost with us in a way that felt honest and practical.

At one point, she even offered to check coverage for our parents next door — to make sure their home was properly protected as well.

Forty-five minutes later, the outcome was simple:

• $7.99 added for electric coverage
• $11 added for sewer coverage

Less than $20 more per month extra!

But the feeling at the end of that call?

Security. Confidence. Trust.

That’s what made this interaction exceptional.

Most customer service calls today are transactional at best. You get an answer, if you’re lucky, and then you’re rushed off the phone. Or transferred. Or made to feel like you’re interrupting someone’s day.

This was different.

What made it a delight wasn’t just friendliness. It was:

• The time she was willing to spend
• The clarity with which she explained real risks
• The ease of adding coverage
• The absence of pressure
• The sense that she actually cared about the outcome

And that matters.

We’ve used HomeServe for years, and this experience reinforced why. They put their money where their mouth is. When something breaks, they show up. They come prepared. They fix or replace what’s necessary. No fuss. No muss.

In a world where service often feels rushed, automated, or indifferent, this kind of experience has become the anomaly.

And yet. it shouldn’t be.

Because this is what customer experience looks like when organizations design for people, not just efficiency metrics. When they empower employees to stay on the line, explain the “why,” and help customers make informed decisions.

Sometimes delight isn’t flashy.

Sometimes it’s a calm, patient voice that takes the time to make sure your whole house, and your peace of mind, is covered.

And honestly? You just don’t see that kind of service anymore.

I know this isn't the only one like this, so if you've got a similar or better story, Tell me about it, and let's rally behind great customer (and human) experience!

This HBR article, by Ron Ashkenas and Gali Cooks. Is Your Leadership Style Too Nice?, resonated because it draws a clear line between being kind and being effective. It reminds us that great leadership is not about avoiding discomfort. It is about having the courage to be clear, honest, and accountable while still leading with care.

True compassion takes time, presence, and the willingness to guide people toward better outcomes, not just faster ones. That balance is what builds real trust. Access the full article here and save it, this one is thought provoking!

Got any new insights on this? Share!

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These walls did talk.

After sixty years of silence, they told us what mattered in 1957: how much a fur coat cost, which movies were worth leaving the house for, who looked “suspicious” enough to be named in a murder investigation, and why flying TWA was still the gold standard of luxury travel.

A folded newspaper and a forgotten beer bottle sealed inside a wall turned into an accidental time capsule. And in reading it, I was struck by how little information people had, how much attention they gave it, and how different relevance looked back then.

Imagine constructtion workers using their little lunch break to re-attach to the world and get some entertainment in, even planning what to watch on TV late at night. Fascinating.

I am resharing this piece because it is not really about a renovation. It is about what we notice, what we value, and what today’s walls might be saying about us.

Link to the whole article here.

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