The persistent effort to give everybody a lift when possible, to make everybody we come in contact with a little better off, to radiate sunshine, cheer, hope, good will, to scatter flowers as we go along, not only brings light and joy to other hearts, but opens wide the door to our own happiness.
There is no habit which will give more satisfaction, that will enrich you more than that of doing a good turn for others at every opportunity. If you can not give material help, if you have no money to give, you can always help by a cheerful spirit, by cordial words of sympathy, kindness, and encouragement. There are more hearts hungering for love and sympathy than for money, and these you can always give.
A poor foreigner, who could speak very little English, was recently accosted in Central Park, New York, by a kind-hearted man who noticed he looked dejected, and thought he might be in need. To his offer of assistance, however, the foreigner replied that he didn’t need money, but that he was lonely, and “just hungry for a handshake.”
We all like the person who flings the door of his heart wide open and bids us welcome with a warm grasp of the hand and a cordial good fellowship; who sees a brother in every man he meets, instead of a rival, a competitor, or a possible enemy.
The whole-souled, large-hearted, open-minded, kindly-disposed person has an infinite advantage over the narrow, pinched, clam-like nature that repels instead of attracting. Cultivate an open nature. Do not be afraid to speak to strangers, to let yourself out, to give your best to everybody you meet. Do not draw within yourself and shut up like a clam whenever you approach any one to whom you have not been introduced.
The cultivation of a helpful spirit of cordiality, of large-mindedness, a broad generous way of looking at things, is of inestimable advantage not only to growth of character, but also to progress in the world. So much of one’s success depends on the personal equation, so much upon the possession of attractive qualities, upon the personality, that the importance of those things can not be overestimated. There is nothing else, for instance, which creates a good first impression so quickly, and calls out such a feeling of good will, as a frank, cordial manner—a manner that is perfectly transparent, that conceals no guile, covers no malice; while there is nothing else that will freeze a person so quickly as an icy, formal, suspicious manner.
I have sat down at table in a hotel or restaurant with a cold, repellent personality, when it has been positively depressing to sit there, even without speaking to the man; for his whole manner forbade one to look at him. On the other hand, I have sat at table with foreigners who could not speak a word of our language, and yet their cordial, gracious salute as I sat down warmed me for the rest of the day. Their manner spoke a language all nationalities understood. It was the language of brotherhood, of good will.
While traveling through New Mexico and Arizona, sometime ago, in hot weather, there was a young Southerner on the train who seemed to get acquainted with his fellow-travelers without effort, and who made the hot, dry, dusty and otherwise dreary trip a real pleasure because of his sunshine. His face was so radiant and he was so full of animal spirits and simple, kindly good nature that it did one good to look at him. He seemed eager to give himself out, to help every one, and to tell all he knew about the country through which we were passing.
That young man’s cheerfulness and cordial manner will win him a welcome wherever he goes.
In some sections of the country, especially where the climate is severe, the soil poor, and the conditions hard, the people seem to partake of the nature of their environment. They act as if they were afraid that they might cast their pearls before swine. They are not quite sure that they want to make friends with the people they meet; there is a cold reserve, a hesitancy in giving the hand, in opening the heart. They feel that they must take every step with the greatest caution; that they must investigate one’s character, one’s standing, before they dare give themselves out without reserve; that they must not be too generous with their cordiality, or it may cost them dear later.
Contrast this stinginess of generosity, this lack of brotherly feeling, with the cordial, whole-hearted manner of those from more genial, hospitable environments. A typical Southerner or Westerner will grasp your hand upon first introduction as warmly as though he had known you for years. He gives you his heart, his confidence, with his hand. There is no stingy, suspicious reserve, no narrow critical scrutiny of your person lest he make a mistake, or say something, make some friendly advance which he will regret later. He just gives himself to you generously, broadly, magnanimously, gives you his best wishes, and makes you feel at home, as if you had met a brother.
Some people have a faculty for touching the wrong keys; from the finest instrument they extract only discord. All their songs are in a minor key. They sound the note of pessimism everywhere. The shadows predominate in all their pictures. Their outlook is always gloomy; times are always hard and money tight. Everything in them seems to be contracting; nothing expanding or growing in their lives.
With others it is just the reverse. They cast no shadows. They radiate sunshine. Every bud they touch opens its petals and flings out its fragrance and beauty. They never approach you but to cheer; they never speak to you but to inspire. They scatter flowers wherever they go. They have that happy alchemy which turns prose to poetry, ugliness to beauty, discord to melody. They see the best in people and say pleasant and helpful things about them. Let us open up our natures, throw wide the doors of our hearts and let in the sunshine of good will and kindness; let us be at least as generous in judging others as we are in judging ourselves, as tolerant of their weaknesses as of our own. Let us throw away all animosities, and try to be large enough and grand enough to see the God in the meanest man.
The habit of holding the good-will, kindly attitude of mind toward everybody has a powerful influence upon the character. It lifts the mind above petty jealousies and meannesses; it enriches and enlarges the whole life. Wherever we meet people, no matter if they are strangers, we feel a certain kinship with and friendliness for them, greater interest in them, if we have formed the goodwill habit. We feel that if we only had the opportunity of knowing them, we should like them.
In other words, the kindly habit, the goodwill habit makes us feel more sympathy for everybody. And if we radiate this helpful, friendly feeling, others will reflect it back to us.
On the other hand, if we go through life with a cold, selfish mental attitude, caring only for our own, always looking for the main chance, only thinking of what will further our own interests, our own comforts, totally indifferent to others, this attitude will, after a while, harden the feelings and marbleize the affections, and we shall become dry, pessimistic, and uninteresting.
Try to hold the kindly, good-will attitude toward everybody. If your nature is hard you will be surprised to see how it will soften under the new influence. You will become more sympathetic, more charitable toward others’ weaknesses and failings, and you will grow more magnanimous and whole-souled. The good-will attitude will make us more lovable, interesting, and helpful. Others will look upon us in the same way in which we regard them. The cold, crabbed, unsocial, selfish person finds the same dualities reflected from others.
How muck better it is to go through life with a warm heart, with kindly feelings toward everybody, radiating good will and good cheer wherever we go! Life is short at most and what a satisfaction it is to feel that we have scattered flowers instead of thorns, that we have tried to be helpful and kind instead of selfish and churlish.
The world builds its monuments to the unselfish, the helpful, and if these monuments are not in marble or bronze, they are in the hearts of those whom their inspirers have cheered, encouraged, and helped.
All of us, no matter how poor we may be, whether we have succeeded or failed in our vocations, can be great successes in helpfulness, in radiating good will, good cheer, and encouragement.
Everybody can be a success in the goodwill business, and it is infinitely better to fail in our vocation and to succeed in this, than to accumulate great wealth and be a failure in helpfulness, in a kindly, sympathetic attitude toward others.
The habit of wishing everybody well, of feeling like giving everybody a Godspeed, ennobles and beautifies the character wonderfully,