Part of what makes Christmastime so delightful are simple carols like this one, an old nursery rhyme set to a traditional melody:

Christmas is coming,
The geese are getting fat,
Please . . . put a penny
In the old man’s hat.
If you haven’t got a penny,
A ha’penny will do,
If you haven’t got a ha’penny,
Then God bless you.

One of the surest signs that Christmas is coming—besides the whimsical songs about well-fed geese—is the almost magical change that seems to come in our outlook and attitude toward others. The advent of Christmas brings a largeness of heart that makes us think a little more about those in need. Something about this time of year brings out the best in us, convincing us to give what we can, whether it’s a penny or a ha’penny—or simply our prayers and goodwill.

Maybe it has something to do with that memorable declaration of the heavenly angels so long ago: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men” (Luke 2:14). Those words are fulfilled and renewed every year at Christmastime, as we open our hearts to others, remember more fully those we love, and look for opportunities to help those who may be a little less fortunate. When Christmas comes, we combine our faith and prayers with good works to shelter the needy, feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, and comfort the oppressed (see Matthew 25:34–36). In short, we give the best kind of gifts.

But really, they aren’t just Christmas gifts. It’s true that poverty and loneliness are felt most keenly during Christmastime, but they exist all year long. What if the advent of this season marked within us an advent of kindness and generosity in our hearts that we carried with us always? What if Christmas left us permanently changed—a little kinder, a little more generous for the rest of the year? Perhaps this year, the ideal of this glorious season could become real in our lives. Perhaps this time, when Christmas comes, it can come to stay.
Some 400 years ago, the Netherlands suffered through a prolonged and bitter war with Spain as it sought religious and political independence. At last, celebrating their triumph over oppression, the Dutch victors set their sentiments to a familiar folk melody. The opening words to that song were later translated into English as “We gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing.”1

The words, the tune, and most of all the spirit of this hymn caught on, crossing cultural, religious, and generational bounds. Today it is known as the “Prayer of Thanksgiving,” and to many it has become an inseparable part of the harvest season. Though it may often evoke images of Pilgrims and Thanksgiving feasts, its words of gratitude capture the feelings of all who have endured adversity and felt to express thanks.2

And really, that’s every one of us. We’ve all had times when we felt overwhelmed or oppressed, alone or forgotten. It’s ironic—but true—that one of the surest ways to feel better in such moments is to consider our blessings. When things aren’t going well, the quickest solution is to give thanks for the things that are going well. Nothing gets us through our adversities quite like a grateful heart.

That’s easier said than done, at least at first. We may need to start small—very small: a bold sunrise or gentle sunset, a changing season, a freshly picked flower, a favorite memory, a loyal friend. Once we determine to look for and cherish the good things, once we resolve to make gratitude a habit of the heart, life just seems to get better, and we feel happier.2

As we count our blessings instead of our burdens, as we measure life by what we have rather than what we don’t have, our lives become a constant, living “prayer of thanksgiving.” And, in the words of the old Dutch folk hymn, this is what will ultimately “make us free.”
  1. “Prayer of Thanksgiving,” Hymns, no. 93.
  2. See Karen Lynn Davidson, Our Latter-Day Hymns: The Stories and the Messages(1988), 122; see also Melanie Kirkpatrick, “A Hymn’s Long Journey Home,” Wall Street Journal, Nov. 19, 2005, wsj.com/articles/SB113234570513601660.

Nobody seeks out suffering. And yet it is one of life’s great ironies that the moments that make us feel weakest often reveal our hidden strengths. We don’t really know what we can endure until we are forced to endure it. Yale University professor Steven Southwick believes that “most of us are a lot more resilient than we think.”1 He compares us to a green tree branch—it may not seem as strong as a more mature, rigid limb. But in a strong wind it’s the green branch that survives, bending but never breaking.

That’s easy to forget when the winds of life seem to be tossing us about. Resilient people know they can’t stop the storm, but they can decide how they react to it. They can take charge of their present and therefore their future. Whatever the challenge may be—a financial crisis, poor health, a conflict in the family or other relationships—they do their best to continue.

One middle-aged woman learned about her own resilience when her husband died, followed shortly thereafter by serious health problems of her own. The string of difficulties seemed unending, but she just carried on—one hour, one day, and one week at a time. It wasn’t easy, but it became easier with the passing of time.

And that’s the other hidden blessing of suffering: those experiences that seem to be weakening us are actually, in many cases, not only revealing our strength but also increasing it. They require resilience, but at the same time they teach us resilience. They prompt us to develop a more optimistic view by cultivating friendships with positive people. They move us to challenge our negative thoughts and strive for a larger perspective. They can even inspire us to reach out to others in love and kindness, which always helps us feel better. Ultimately, patiently bearing up under trials will develop in us the strength and resilience to bend but not break, to remain positive, and even to enjoy inner peace as the storms of life swirl around us.

In Clare Ansberry, “Resilience Can Be Learned,” Wall Street Journal, Mar. 25, 2015, D1, D3, www.wsj.com/articles/after-loss-how-to-learn-resilience-1427225009.

At the end of a long day of school and work, a busy college student was asked about his exhausting day. Instead of mentioning his difficult chemistry class or his burdensome homework assignment, he talked about the beautiful sunset he saw on his way home. The highlight of his day was a moment of awe.

Awe is what we feel when we encounter something vast and majestic, something bigger than ourselves. It breaks us free from the mundane and expands the way we see the world. We all need these moments of awe that calm our nerves, enlarge our perspective, and lift our attitude.

According to recent studies, awe-inspiring experiences “benefit us in all sorts of ways, from stronger health to improved relationships.” They make us quicker to help someone in need, more willing to share with others, and less interested in monetary rewards for the good we do.1

There seems to be something about awe-inspiring moments that puts life in perspective and inspires us to trust and connect with our fellow human beings. Such experiences make us feel small while at the same time making us want to reach out beyond the limits of our private circle and embrace all of humanity.

And the good news is that this glorious world is full of “awe experiences.” They’re all around us—all we have to do is look for them. That may mean taking a walk or a drive to see the beauties of nature. Or pausing to look deeply into a star-filled sky or at a glorious sunrise. Or watching grandkids having fun at a playground, or reveling in the joy of a new baby. Listening to inspiring music, watching an uplifting television program, or reading something enriching—all of these things can create awe. If we take the time to seek moments of awe, to appreciate something grand and glorious, to contemplate something bigger than ourselves, we may be surprised to find that our life is bigger, grander, and filled with more awe than we ever imagined.
  1. See Elizabeth Bernstein, “Researchers Study Awe and Find It Is Good for Relationships,” Wall Street Journal, Feb. 23, 2015, D3; wsj.com/articles/researchers-study-awe-and-find-it-is-good-for-relationships-1424717882.
If there is one common thread that runs through most of the world’s problems, it’s anger. Violence, abuse, and hatred all grow when fueled by anger’s empty fumes. We’ve all seen how anger damages relationships and destroys love and trust. What’s more, medical researchers have recently found that anger can lead to sleeping problems, excess eating, and long-term heart damage.1 No, nothing good comes from anger.

But there is good news. With so much in life that seems beyond our control, our own anger does not have to be. We can do something about it! We can start by simply choosing to give others the benefit of the doubt. Instead of assuming they are purposefully attempting to harm us or offend us, we can choose to believe their motives are innocent. Truly, much of our anger is caused by unintentional offenses: the scowl, the thoughtless comment, even the seemingly deliberate snub may not have been intended.

It’s true that sometimes people do mean to offend or take advantage of us. But wise and contented people don’t let such irritation boil over into their commute, their relationships, their plans and expectations. They understand that a certain amount of unfairness and unkindness are part of life. But they don’t give inconsiderate people power over their happiness and contentment.

Yes, life can be exasperating, but if we let anger get the best of us, then we really have lost what’s best of us—our self-control and personal freedom. As Ralph Waldo Emerson wisely said, “For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind.”2 So when anger mounts, instead of getting upset about things we can’t control, we can pause, if only for a moment, breathe deeply, and count to 10—or 100 if necessary. As we replace anger with peace, hostility with understanding, and hatred with love and compassion, in a small but real way, we are making the world a better place.

See Jeanne Whalen, “Angry Outbursts Really Do Hurt Your Health, Doctors Find,” Wall Street Journal, Mar. 24, 2015, D1, wsj.com/articles/angry-outbursts-really-do-hurt-your-health-doctors-find-1427150596. 
In The Very Best of Ralph Waldo Emerson, ed. David Graham (2014), np.

The First Presidency and Council of the Twelve Apostles
of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

WE, THE FIRST PRESIDENCY and the Council of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, solemnly proclaim that marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that the family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children.

ALL HUMAN BEINGS—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose.

IN THE PREMORTAL REALM, spirit sons and daughters knew and worshipped God as their Eternal Father and accepted His plan by which His children could obtain a physical body and gain earthly experience to progress toward perfection and ultimately realize their divine destiny as heirs of eternal life. The divine plan of happiness enables family relationships to be perpetuated beyond the grave. Sacred ordinances and covenants available in holy temples make it possible for individuals to return to the presence of God and for families to be united eternally.

THE FIRST COMMANDMENT that God gave to Adam and Eve pertained to their potential for parenthood as husband and wife. We declare that God’s commandment for His children to multiply and replenish the earth remains in force. We further declare that God has commanded that the sacred powers of procreation are to be employed only between man and woman, lawfully wedded as husband and wife.

WE DECLARE the means by which mortal life is created to be divinely appointed. We affirm the sanctity of life and of its importance in God’s eternal plan.
HUSBAND AND WIFE have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. “Children are an heritage of the Lord” (Psalm 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations.

THE FAMILY is ordained of God. Marriage between man and woman is essential to His eternal plan. Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity. Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities. By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. Extended families should lend support when needed.

WE WARN that individuals who violate covenants of chastity, who abuse spouse or offspring, or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God. Further, we warn that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets.

WE CALL UPON responsible citizens and officers of government everywhere to promote those measures designed to maintain and strengthen the family as the fundamental unit of society.


This proclamation was read by President Gordon B. Hinckley as part of his message at the General Relief Society Meeting held September 23, 1995, in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Pottery is among mankind’s oldest and most enduring crafts. The process itself feels like a work of art, as the expert potter carefully, patiently shapes a lump of clay into a beautiful, useful vessel. While finishing the work takes time and patient effort, the result is clearly worth it. It’s no wonder that pottery making is often used as a metaphor for how our lives are gently molded by the patient hand of God. 

But patience is not always a popular virtue today, when almost everything is instantaneous. We eat fast food, photos appear instantly on our smartphones, and we can quickly access almost any information we need. Waiting even a few seconds seems like too long, as we hurry from one app, one website, or one transaction to another. Our time is hardly measured in minutes anymore, but in bits per second—not just fast, but superfast.

This increase in speed has brought many advantages. But it can also lead us to be less than patient with each other and with ourselves. 

Patience does not mean suffering while we wait to get what we want - that’s more like impatience! When we are truly patient, we kindly and lovingly allow others the time they need to reach their full potential. We do not resent the fact that progression is a process, and we resist putting undue pressure and unrealistic expectations on others—or on ourselves—knowing that it will only hinder growth and create frustration.

Patience means not despairing when mistakes happen. It means making room for change as we all learn a better way. It means we will sometimes be offended, but we won’t harbor resentment or anger as we work out a solution. Patience inspires us to give people another chance and the benefit of the doubt, just as we hope they will do for us. Patience is the power that comes from hope and confidence that things will, in time, improve. 

Even in our fast-paced life, let us allow the Master Potter to do His work. If we are patient, we will see a beautiful result.

Only those who are willing to risk heartbreak and disappointment will ever know what it means to truly love. 

As C. S. Lewis put it: “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping [your heart] intact, you must give [it] to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket - of your selfishness. But in that casket - it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”1 And ultimately, incapable of experiencing true love!
This simple truth applies to all of life's beautiful, blessed experiences—each one comes only to those who open themselves to the possibility of their opposites: joy and sorrow, heartache and happiness, abundance and loss. It is in the very prospect of pain that we learn to truly appreciate love.
Many years ago, a woman purchased a greeting card about love. She intended to give the card away, but she ending up keeping it because she liked the sentiment so much. Eventually, she framed it and shared it with someone she loved. The card read, “Another's heart is a rare and precious gift. Hold it gently and with both hands.”
When others give us their love, they give us great power—the power to hurt them as no one else can, but also the power to bless and lift and delight them as no one else can. And they have determined that this possibility is worth the risk. So when we love, we must be gentle with our criticism, generous with our praise, gracious with our forgiveness, and ever grateful for those who have entrusted us with their heart.
Truly, to love is to walk on holy ground. One who loves holds—in both hands—a portion of the potential, the joy, and the happiness of another. It is a sacred trust, born of the confidence that love is a song that never needs to end.2
  1. The Four Loves (1960), 121.
  2. See Larry Morey, “Love Is a Song” (1942).

Few things release the feelings of the heart like singing does. It brings deep emotions to the surface that we might otherwise struggle to express. When we sing, we reveal what’s in our soul, and this honesty of heart connects us with others despite barriers of time, place, and culture. 
But sometimes we need a little help appreciating the power of music. One young man, searching to find his niche in middle school, had no intentions of joining the boys’ choir - at least not until the choral teacher approached him and asked why he was not registered for her class. He couldn’t quickly come up with any good reason or excuse, so she walked him to the school office and made the necessary adjustments to his schedule. She told him that she needed him in the choir, that he would love singing, and that she wanted to be his teacher. 
The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the front row of the boys’ choir. Placing him next to one of the strongest singers in the class, the teacher made sure the young man could not fail. And succeed he did. Singing in that choir changed him: he discovered his voice and learned about the powerful influence music could have in his life. Perhaps most important, he knew his choir teacher cared about him. She cared enough to expose him to music that would enrich his life for decades to come. He never became a soloist, and he may not ever sing in a choir again, but he still loves music and remembers with fondness his dedicated teacher. Both he and his parents still praise that wonderful choral director. 
Whether we blend our voices with others in a choir or simply sing in the shower or car, singing can lift our spirits, express our feelings, and help us make meaningful connections with others - and with the divine. The song of the heart can be more than a song; it can be a prayer, a confession of heartfelt emotion, an expression of love. 
Inspirational Poems: Miracles Happens: Though troubles assail And war affrights Though government should fail And sickness unite Yet one thing secures us Whatever be...
A woman who loved soufflé decided to make some for her family for a special occasion. But she became nervous when she read the recipe for the light, fluffy cake. Soufflé is not easy to make, and it has to be served quickly to keep it from falling. So as the years, holidays, and birthdays went by, she continued to save the recipe, not quite ready to attempt it. Her family grew up, and she grew old. Finally she gave the recipe to one of her children with this wise counsel: “Take the risk. Make the soufflé. If it falls, it falls. But you’ll never have it if you don’t try.”
Many of us have trips we wish to take, talents we want to develop, even friends we’d like to make, but our plans get caught in the inertia of daily living. And then, in what seems like the blink of an eye, the window of opportunity closes.
Perhaps we hesitate because we fear failure. Yet the greatest risk is refusing to risk; the greatest failure is refusing to try—it means we will never taste that soufflé, see that dazzling vista, or enjoy that grand accomplishment.
So how do we break free of our self-imposed limitations? We can start by trying something new. We can say hello to the withdrawn co-worker we’ve never spoken to. We can try a new food, or read a book by a new author. We can sing a song that has always seemed outside our range. We can sign up for a class we always wanted to take. We can use the vast offerings of the Internet to research a famous artist, find out about a recent scientific discovery, or start to learn a new language.
Don’t wait until “someday.” Today is what we have. As a wise mother once said: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”1
Like the soufflé, if we fall, we fall. But we’ll never know if we don’t try.
  1. In H. Jackson Brown, P.S. I Love You (1990), 13.

Every veteran has a story. Some spent their military service in the line of fire; others gave their service behind the scenes. Some carried weapons; some carried a medical bag. Whether on the ground, in the air, or on the water, all who willingly respond to the call to serve their country see it as a high and holy calling to protect, safeguard, and strengthen the land they love.
Former United States President George W. Bush observed: “We live in freedom because every generation has produced patriots willing to serve a cause greater than themselves. Those who serve today are taking their rightful place among the greatest generations that have worn our nation’s uniform.”1
Every generation has the opportunity to be as great as the one that preceded it. We measure the value of a veteran’s service not by the length or the location of the conflict but by the heart and character of the soldiers. Every time brave soldiers respond to the call of duty, they have the opportunity to leave a legacy of honor for those who follow.
Like typical heroes, most would say, “I’m just doing my job” or “It was my honor to serve.” They don’t want to be placed on a lofty pedestal or adulated from afar. They see themselves as regular men and women who were simply willing to step up, do their duty, and serve their country. And yet it’s that sense of humble dedication to duty that swells our hearts with appreciation and respect for their service. They are shining reflections and visible symbols of the land we love.
Another U. S. President, John F. Kennedy, wisely said, “A nation reveals itself not only by the men it produces but also by the men it honors, the men it remembers.”2 This day and forever, let us remember with gratitude our worthy servicemen and women and pray for heaven’s blessings upon them.

1. Speech at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, published in New York Times, June 29, 2005, http://www.nytimes.com/2005/06/29/world/americas/29iht-web.0629bushtext.html.
2. Remarks at Amherst College, Oct. 26, 1963, http://www.jfklibrary.org/Asset-Viewer/80308LXB5kOPFEJqkw5hlA.aspx.



The year was 1918, the close of World War I. An American Red Cross nurse wrote a letter to the mother of a soldier who had died shortly after the armistice was signed. He had made it through the terrors of war without injury and then, sadly, succumbed in the hospital to pneumonia. Wanting the mother to have more than a brief message from the military about her son’s death, the nurse wrote of what she called the “little things that mean so much to a mother far away from her boy.”
“He was brave and cheerful,” she wrote, “and made a good fight with the disease” until he was too weak to go on. Now, she continued, he “sleeps under a simple white wooden cross among his comrades who, like him, have died for their country. . . . I enclose here a few leaves from the grass that grows near in a pretty meadow.”1
The nurse must have known that the mother had loved her son because that love was reflected in the way he loved others, laughing and talking “to the people around him as long as he was able.”2
And isn’t that what makes a mother? Profound and abiding love for a child. Inspired by that love, mothers are examples, leaders, diplomats, listeners, mediators, and mentors within and beyond the walls of their homes. And with that love, mothers shape the future, one person at a time.
For the most part, a mother’s skills are learned on the job. A mother has common sense not found in books, patience to wait up for a teenager, steadiness to keep smiling when the only word a toddler says is “no,” and forgiveness that holds these dear ones together—and ultimately holds society together too.
The nurse concluded her letter with a tribute to the soldier’s mother that could be penned about mothers everywhere. She wrote, “The country will always . . . honor you for the gift of your boy, but be assured, that the sacrifice is not in vain, and the world is better today for it.”3
  1. Maude B. Fisher, in War Letters: Extraordinary Correspondence from American Wars, ed. Andrew Carroll (2001), 170-71.
  2. Fisher, in War Letters, 171.
  3. Fisher, in War Letters, 171.
It's been said that God rewrites the book of Genesis every spring.1 "In the beginning" takes on special meaning each year as we witness the renewed life, the rebirth, and the new beginnings that seem to be built in to earth’s cycle of seasons. It’s as if nature itself is trying to tell us that whatever we are going through, things can change—things can get better. No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow. The days will become a little brighter, the weather a little warmer, and life will be restored. Ultimately, it’s a reminder of the hope expressed by Robert Browning: "God’s in his heaven—all’s right with the world!"2
We need that reassurance from time to time, especially in moments when life gets hard and all doesn't seem right with the world. When the fire of truth and faith has been extinguished, we need to know that it can be rekindled and burn again in our souls. When hearts have been broken and dreams shattered, we need to be reminded that they can be mended and rebuilt over time. Just as surely as brown grass, battered shrubs, and leafless trees can become green and blooming once again, we can believe in the promise of new life and renewed beginnings.
In that spirit, a poet once observed:
"I wonder if the Daffodil
Shrinks from the touch of frost,
And when her veins grow stiff and still
She dreams that life is lost?
Ah, if she does, how sweet a thing
Her resurrection day in spring!"3
That is the hope of this season. It is the assurance that nothing is ever permanently lost, that no one is forever gone. Indeed, heartbreak, discouragement—even death itself is not final, as long as we have hope in that "resurrection day in spring." This is why we sing, "Hail the day that sees [us] rise"—from doubt to devotion, from fear to faith, from death to life!4
  1. See Austin O’Malley, Keystones of Thought, 5th ed.(1920), 91.
  2. Pippa Passes (1841), act 2, lines 215-22.
  3. Emma C. Dowd, “Daffodil and Crocus,” in Country Life in America, Apr. 1902, 218.
  4. Charles Wesley, “Hail the Day That Sees Him Rise” (1742).
At the start of a new semester, the president of a large university advised his students: "We will all fail. More than once. Every day." Not exactly the inspiring pep talk they may have expected. But then he added: "My plea for you today is to learn how to fail successfully."1
He recounted a failure from his own background as a young lawyer, when a partner at his firm pointed out errors in a document he had carefully prepared. The criticism hurt, but he reworked the document and solved the problem. The law partner then shared this wise counsel: "Good judgment comes from experience. And experience comes from bad judgment."2
Of course, no one seeks out failure, but no one can completely avoid it either. So we may as well learn from it. In fact, it could be said that if we're not failing from time to time, we're not learning all that we can. A child who doesn't fall—a lot—never learns how to walk. A dancer, athlete, writer, or singer who never stumbles or makes mistakes never improves and never achieves greatness.
The key is the way we react to our setbacks and failures. Instead of becoming frustrated, ashamed, or discouraged, we can choose to go forward with new experience, broader perspective, better judgment, and renewed determination. We may continue to fail, but we can ensure that when we do, we fail forward.

The road of life is not a smooth highway paved with happiness and success. Potholes and detours along the way are meant to teach us and enrich our experience, if we are willing to learn from them. This is what it means to fail successfully—to not let life's failures set us back but propel us forward.
  1. Kevin J. Worthen, in Valerie Johnson, "Learn to Fail Successfully, BYU President Tells Students," LDS.org Church News, Jan. 13, 2015, http://www.lds.org/church/news/learn-to-fail-successfully-byu-president-tells-students.
  2. In Valerie Johnson, "Learn to Fail Successfully."
One of Mark Twain's stories tells of an artist, George Sterling, who finds most of humanity - other than himself - rather uninteresting. Self-absorbed in his own career and interests, he takes little notice of the people around him.
But then George starts painting portraits of the very people he considers dull and commonplace. As his subjects gradually open up to him, he learns their stories, gets to know them from the inside, and comes to the realization that “a [person's] experiences of life are a book. There was never yet an uninteresting life,” he concludes. “Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy.”1
Sometimes, as the saying goes, you can't judge a book by its cover. A rough exterior might just be hiding a loyal, tender heart. A shy or reserved demeanor often belies profound feelings and insightful perspectives on life. Every life story has its chapters of heartache and difficulty, along with moments of sheer joy and good humor. And the best part is, a new chapter is being written every day.
But the only way to know that is to take the time and effort to truly get to know a person. That man you see walking down the street bravely served his country during a war; he has a family, and he's looking for work - he has a story to tell. That woman waiting in line in front of you runs a small business, sings in a choir, and volunteers in her son's elementary school - she has a story to tell. Old, young, and everyone in between has a story.
So listen, ask questions, be patient, and open your heart with genuine interest in another's journey of life. As their stories unfold, not only will you find them to be more fascinating than you may have thought, but you may also find a new friend - and that will enrich your life story too.
  1. “The Refuge of the Derelicts,” in The Devil's Race-Track: Mark Twain's Great Dark Writings, ed. John S. Tuckey (1966), 317.

In 1753 the British government, with its heavy hand on the American colonies, put Benjamin Franklin in charge of the colonial postal system north of Maryland. Postage prices were assessed by the mile in those days, and Franklin’s fellow colonists were suspicious that the British were overcharging.
Franklin determined to find out. He set out on the Boston Post Road, then known as the King’s Highway. Attached to his carriage was a homemade odometer that counted the rotations of the wheels. Every mile, a stake was driven into the ground and a crew followed behind placing stone markers at each stake. These literal milestones were among the first in the United States.
Today, milestones measure more than distance; they have become a cultural symbol of the passage of life. They mark significant moments, experiences, transitions, and changes. These milestones may not be as tangible as stone markers by the side of the road, but they are indeed a measure of our journey.
What are the milestones in your life? For some it may be college graduation and the start of a career. For others, milestones include the birth of a grandchild, the death of a loved one, a health challenge, a new neighborhood, a disappointment in love or family, a conversation that gives vision and purpose, or simply planting a beautiful garden.
Milestones help us look back and see our progress; they help us look forward with faith and determination. They give us something to strive for and remind us that we aren’t done yet. Sometimes we don’t recognize a milestone until long after we’ve passed it. And many of our milestones are yet to be set along our life’s path.
Benjamin Franklin’s life was full of milestones, and many of them became his country’s milestones. So he spoke from personal experience when he said, “Without continual growth and progress, such words as improvement, achievement, and success have no meaning.” May our personal milestones give meaning and perspective not only to our successes but also to the occasional bumps and detours - to every mile of the journey of life.
  1. See Truday Tynan, “Milestones of History,” Toledo Blade, Sept. 19, 2004, F12.
  2. In Ann Kannings, comp., Benjamin Franklin: Life and Words (ebook, 2014).
If you knew that this was your last day on earth - that tomorrow your life would end - what would you do today? Most people would probably not try to squeeze in one more day at the office or one last television program. More than likely, you would spend most of the day trying to reach the people who are dear to you, simply to say, one last time, "I love you."

Those three words "I love you" are perhaps the most important words in our language. Of course, they mean something only if they are backed up by authenticity and actions. But the words themselves are important too. So many people go through the day or week or even the year and rarely hear those three simple words. We all need to know that we are loved, that we matter to someone, that we have a place in another's heart. This is what gives us confidence to face the cold world; it is what makes us feel alive.

How many relationships could begin to heal with a sincere expression of love? How many broken hearts could start to mend? How many marriages or families could be strengthened by the intentional choice to say - both in deeds and in words - "I love you"?

Perhaps we think our loved ones surely must know how we feel about them. But they need to hear it. Flowery, poetic, or lengthy language is not necessary. Those three simple words are usually just enough.

Their power lies in their straightforward purity. "I love you" includes no caveats, no conditions, no limitations. It gives no explanation or justification. It simply declares to one heart what another heart feels.


When the end of our life does come, we may feel some regret about the things we didn't accomplish or the goals we didn't achieve, but we will never regret our expressions of genuine love. So why wait for our final day? Tell someone, "I love you" today.
Feeling genuinely happy for another person’s good fortune may be one of the truest marks of authentic goodness and real friendship. Surprisingly, it sometimes seems easier to find someone who will weep with us during our hard times than to find someone who will rejoice with us in our successes. Most people are compassionate and caring toward those who suffer, but a special quality manifests itself in those who are genuinely happy for the good fortune of others.
Some have called this quality an “abundance mentality”—the conviction that life is full of good fortune, that there’s plenty of happiness to go around, and that one person’s joy does not deplete the supply for everyone else. Those with such abundant hearts do not feel threatened or jealous when someone seems to be winning at the race of life, because they know that life is not a race. They measure success in life not by how many people they surpass but by how many people they lift. They feel that every man or woman’s triumph is a victory for us all, and this generosity of spirit gives them peace and contentment.
Life can be unsettling enough; turning it into a competition only makes us feel less secure. So how can we overcome the human tendency to count wins and losses? How can we enlarge our hearts to make room for joy in the successes of others?
Perhaps the answer lies in looking beyond life’s mundane, fleeting things and intentionally holding on to a larger perspective—the big picture. This may help us see that we are not victims, that things will eventually work out for us, and that the things that really matter—like peace, love, and real joy—are truly everlasting. We will see that withholding a compliment or congratulations does not make us happier. Simply stated, when we choose to have an abundant heart, when we decide to cheer for others, we just feel better. Our circumstances may not change, but our heart does. We are blessed with more serenity when we rejoice with those who rejoice. Indeed, happiness for others’ successes nurtures happiness within ourselves.
Always there have been struggles-for individuals and for groups. But for each struggle, there are always men and women who rise above the ugly and the combative and make the world a better place-people whose greatness seems a perfect match for the challenge of the day.
An outstanding example of this truth is Jackie Robinson, the first African American to play Major League Baseball in the modern era.
Perhaps no one other than Jackie himself will ever know how much courage this stand for civil rights required. Though he had many supporters, he was also heckled and even threatened by fans. Some opposing pitchers aimed for his head. Baserunners aimed their spikes at his legs. Even some teammates shunned him. One sportswriter called Jackie Robinson “the loneliest man I’ve ever seen in sports.”1
But Jackie knew that if he retaliated it could spell disaster for the dream of ending racial segregation. So he suffered in dignified silence. His athleticism caught the attention of baseball fans, but it was his moral strength that caught the attention of another man who believed in nonviolence: Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
King said of Robinson: “He underwent the trauma and the humiliation and the loneliness which comes of being a pilgrim walking the lonesome byways toward the high road of Freedom. He was a sit-inner before sit ins, a freedom rider before freedom rides. And that is why we honor him.”2 Truly, he was the right man for the time.
Today, Jackie Robinson’s uniform number, 42, has been retired by all major league teams. And every year on Jackie Robinson Day, all players, coaches, managers, and umpires wear 42 in honor of his contributions-not just to baseball but to the freedom of the nation.
The epitaph on Jackie Robinson’s tombstone reads, “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.” This, after all, is how the world is changed: one life at a time. And this is a contribution we can all make.
1. Jimmy Cannon, in Arnold Ampersand, Jackie Robinson: A Biography(1997), 172.
2. In Ampersand, Jackie Robinson, 7.
In many ways, life gets better with age - sometimes surprisingly so. The common belief is that a person’s overall sense of well-being goes downhill as he or she gets older, but researchers are finding - and many older people themselves are discovering - that this is not necessarily the case.
For example, as we age, wisdom and understanding can flourish. Intelligence can develop and expertise can deepen, which can enhance creativity and productivity. Friendships can become more meaningful as the passing years teach us to prioritize what matters most. One Stanford University professor said, “Contrary to the popular view that youth is the best time of life, the peak of emotional life may not occur until well into the seventh decade.”1 While youth may have advantages, good things can come with age.
Of course, growing older has its share of challenges and difficulties. And, if we continue to live, we’ll each get there. So how can we turn this remarkable season of life into truly “golden” years?
Perhaps one suggestion is to focus more on what we can do than on what we cannot do. Age does come with limitations, but we all can do something. It doesn’t have to be grand or monumental to be worthwhile. We can look for small and simple ways to reach out to others - make a phone call, send a note, extend a helping hand, or show interest in another’s life. We can learn something new - go to a museum, listen to an audiobook that stretches our mind a bit, or take up a new interest or hobby. We can look for opportunities to share our lived experience and acquired knowledge.
In other words, we can resolve to live life in crescendo, ever growing and always serving. Time will pass, no matter how we spend it - so let’s make the most of the time we’ve been given and live our days well.
1. Laura Carstensen, in Anne Tergesen, “Why Everything You Think about Aging May Be Wrong,” Wall Street Journal, Nov. 30, 2014, http://www.wsj.com/articles/why-everything-you-think-about-aging-may-be-wrong-1417408057.

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