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. R—– 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 ther
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.”
She showed Mr. R—– about the house, and he expressed
his hearty admiration for the beautiful treasures
she had picked up in her travels and cherished over a
lifetime – paisley shawls, an old English tea set, Wedgwood
china, French beds and chairs, Italian paintings,
and silk draperies that had once hung in a French chateau.
After showing Mr. R—– through the house, she took
him out to the garage. There, jacked up on blocks, was a
Packard car – in mint condition.
“My husband bought that car for me shortly before he
passed on,” she said softly. “I have never ridden in it
since his death. . . . You appreciate nice things, and I’m
going to give this car to you.”
“Why, aunty,” he said, “you overwhelm me. I appreciate
your generosity, of course; but I couldn’t possibly
accept it. I’m not even a relative of yours. I have a new
car, and you have many relatives that would like to have
that Packard.”
“Relatives!” she exclaimed. “Yes, I have relatives who
are just waiting till I die so they can get that car. But
they are not going to get it.”
“If you don’t want to give it to them, you can very
easily sell it to a secondhand dealer,” he told her.
“Sell it!” she cried. “Do you think I would sell this
car? Do you think I could stand to see strangers riding
up and down the street in that car – that car that my
husband bought for me? I wouldn’t dream of selling it.
I’m going to give it to you. You appreciate beautiful
things.”
He tried to get out of accepting the car, but he couldn’t
without hurting her feelings.
This lady, left all alone in a big house with her paisley
shawls, her French antiques, and her memories, was
starving for a little recognition, She had once been
young and beautiful and sought after She had once built
a house warm with love and had collected things from
all over Europe to make it beautiful. Now, in the isolated
loneliness of old age, she craved a little human warmth,
a little genuine appreciation – and no one gave it to her.
And when she found it, like a spring in the desert, her
gratitude couldn’t adequately express itself with anything
less than the gift of her cherished Packard.
Let’s take another case: Donald M. McMahon, who
was superintendent of Lewis and Valentine, nurserymen
and landscape architects in Rye, New York, related
this incident:
“Shortly after I attended the talk on ‘How to Win
Friends and Influence People,’ I was landscaping the
estate of a famous attorney. The owner came out to give
me a few instructions about where he wished to plant a
mass of rhododendrons and azaleas.
“I said, ‘Judge, you have a lovely hobby. I’ve been
admiring your beautiful dogs. I understand you win a lot
of blue ribbons every year at the show in Madison
Square Garden.’
“The effect of this little expression of appreciation was
striking.
” ‘Yes,’ the judge replied, ‘I do have a lot of fun with
my dogs. Would you like to see my kennel?’
“He spent almost an hour showing me his dogs and
the prizes they had won. He even brought out their
pedigrees and explained about the bloodlines responsible
for such beauty and intelligence.
“Finally, turning to me, he asked: ‘Do you have any
small children?’
” ‘Yes, I do,’ I replied, ‘I have a son.’
” ‘Well, wouldn’t he like a puppy?’ the judge inquired.
” ‘Oh, yes, he’d be tickled pink.’
” ‘All right, I’m going to give him one,’ the . judge announced.
He started to tell me how to feed the puppy. Then he
paused. ‘You’ll forget it if I tell you. I’ll write it out.’ So
the judge went in the house, typed out the pedigree and
feeding instructions, and gave me a puppy worth several
hundred dollars and one hour and fifteen minutes of his
valuable time largely because I had expressed my honest
admiration for his hobby and achievements.”
George Eastman, of Kodak fame, invented the transparent
film that made motion pictures possible, amassed
a fortune of a hundred million dollars, and made himself
one of the most famous businessmen on earth. Yet in
spite of all these tremendous accomplishments, he
craved little recognitions even as you and I.
To illustrate: When Eastman was building the Eastman
School of Music and also Kilbourn Hall in Rochester,
James Adamson, then president of the Superior
Seating Company of New York, wanted to get the order
to supply the theater chairs for these buildings. Phoning
the architect, Mr. Adamson made an appointment to see
Mr. Eastman in Rochester.
When Adamson arrived, the architect said: “I know
you want to get this order, but I can tell you right now
that you won’t stand a ghost of a show if you take more
than five minutes of George Eastman’s time. He is a
strict disciplinarian. He is very busy. So tell your story
quickly and get out.”
Adamson was prepared to do just that.
When he was ushered into the room he saw Mr. Eastman
bending over a pile of papers at his desk. Presently,
Mr. Eastman looked up, removed his glasses, and
walked toward the architect and Mr. Adamson, saying:
“Good morning, gentlemen, what can I do for you?”
The architect introduced them, and then Mr. Adamson
said: “While we’ve been waiting for you, Mr. Eastman,
I’ve been admiring your office. I wouldn’t mind working
in a room like this myself. I’m in the interior-woodworking
business, and I never saw a more beautiful office in
all my life.”
George Eastman replied: “You remind me of something
I had almost forgotten. It is beautiful, isn’t it? I
enjoyed it a great deal when it was first built. But I come
down here now with a lot of other things on my mind
and sometimes don’t even see the room for weeks at a
time .”
Adamson walked over and rubbed his hand across a
panel. “This is English oak, isn’t it? A little different
texture from Italian oak.”
“Yes,” Eastman replied. “Imported English oak. It
was selected for me by a friend who specializes in fine
woods .”
Then Eastman showed him about the room, commenting
on the proportions, the coloring, the hand carving
and other effects he had helped to plan and execute.
While drifting about the room, admiring the wood-work,
they paused before a window, and George Eastman,
in his modest, soft-spoken way, pointed out some
of the institutions through which he was trying to help
humanity: the University of Rochester, the General Hospital,