chapter9.2

You don't have to wait until you are ambassador to France or chairman of the Clambake Committee of your lodge before you use this philosophy of appreciation.

You can work magic with it almost every day.

If, for example, the waitress brings us mashed potatoes when we have ordered French fried, let's say: "I'm sorry to trouble you, but I prefer French fried."

She'll probably reply, "No trouble at all" and will be glad to change the potatoes, because we have shown respect for her.

Little phrases such as "I'm sorry to trouble you," "Would you be so kind as to ----? " "Won't you please?" "Would you mind?" "Thank you" - little courtesies like these oil the cogs of the monotonous grind of everyday life - and, incidentally, they are the hallmark of good breeding.

Let's take another illustration.

Hall Caine, best-selling author, was the son of a blacksmith.

He never had more than eight years' schooling in his life; yet when he died he was the richest literary man of his time.

The story goes like this: Hall Caine loved sonnets and ballads; so he devoured all of Dante Gabriel Rossetti's poetry.

He even wrote a lecture chanting the praises of Rossetti's artistic achievement—and sent a copy to Rossetti himself.

Rossetti was delighted.

"Any young man who has such an exalted opinion of my ability," Rossetti probably said to himself, "must be brilliant,"

So Rossetti invited this blacksmith's son to come to London and act as his secretary.

That was the turning point in Hall Caine's life; for, in his new position, he met the literary artists of the day.

Profiting by their advice and inspired by their encouragement, he launched upon a career that emblazoned his name across the sky.

His home, Greeba Castle, on the Isle of Man, became a Mecca for tourists from the far corners of the world, and he left a multimillion dollar estate.

Yet—who knows—he might have died poor and unknown had he not written an essay expressing his admiration for a famous man.

Such is the power, the stupendous power, of sincere, heartfelt appreciation.

Rossetti considered himself important.

That is not strange.

Almost everyone considers himself important, very important.

The life of many a person could probably be changed if only someone would make him feel important.

Ronald J. Rowland, who is one of the instructors of our course in California, is also a teacher of arts and crafts.

He wrote to us about a student named Chris in his beginning crafts class:

Chris was a very quiet, shy boy lacking in self-confidence, the kind of student that often does not receive the attention he deserves.

I also teach an advanced class that had grown to be somewhat of a status symbol and a privilege for a student to have earned the right to be in it.

On Wednesday, Chris was diligently working at his desk.

I really felt there was a hidden fire deep inside him.

I asked Chris if he would like to be in the advanced class.

How I wish I could express the look in Chris's face, the emotions in that shy fourteen-year-old boy, trying to hold back his tears.

"Who me, Mr. Rowland?

Am I good enough?"

"Yes, Chris, you are good enough."

I had to leave at that point because tears were coming to my eyes.

As Chris walked out of class that day, seemingly two inches taller, he looked at me with bright blue eyes and said in a positive voice, "Thank you, Mr. Rowland."

Chris taught me a lesson I will never forget-our deep desire to feel important.

To help me never forget this rule, I made a sign which reads "YOU ARE IMPORTANT."

This sign hangs in the front of the classroom for all to see and to remind me that each student I face is equally important.

The unvarnished truth is that almost all the people you meet feel themselves superior to you in some way,

and a sure way to their hearts is to let them realize in some subtle way that you recognize their importance, and recognize it sincerely.

Remember what Emerson said: "Every man I meet is my superior in some way.

In that, I learn of him."

And the pathetic part of it is that frequently those who have the least justification for a feeling of achievement bolster up their egos by a show of tumult and conceit which is truly nauseating.

As Shakespeare put it: "... man, proud man,/Drest in a little brief authority,/ ... Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven/As make the angels weep."

I am going to tell you how business people in my own courses have applied these principles with remarkable results.

Let's take the case of a Connecticut attorney (because of his relatives he prefers not to have his name mentioned).

Shortly after joining the course, Mr. P----- drove to Long Island with his wife to visit some of her relatives.

She left him to chat with an old aunt of hers and then rushed off by herself to visit some of the younger relatives.

Since he soon had to give a speech professionally on how he applied the principles of appreciation, he thought he would gain some worthwhile experience talking with the-elderly lady.

So he looked around the house to see what he could honestly admire.

"This house was built about 1890, wasn't it?" he inquired.

"Yes," she replied, "that is precisely the year it was built."

"It reminds me of the house I was born in," he said.

"It's beautiful.

Well built. Roomy.

You know, they don't build houses like this anymore."

"You're right," the old lady agreed.

"The young folks nowadays don't care for beautiful homes.

All they want is a small apartment, and then they go off gadding about in their automobiles.

"This is a dream house," she said in a voice vibrating with tender memories.

"This house was built with love.

My husband and I dreamed about it for years before we built it.

We didn't have an architect.

We planned it all ourselves."