Suddenly Stephen turned over on his side to face the wall. I wondered why and lifted myself up just enough to see his eyes welling up with tears.
“What’s wrong, honey? What is it?”
He turned back, and I could sense he was feeling some embarrassment for the tears and his quivering lips and chin.
“Daddy, if I were cold, would you put your coat around me, too?”
Of all the events of that special night out together, the most important was a little act of kindness—a momentary, unconscious showing of love to his little brother. What a powerful, personal lesson that was to me of the importance of kindness!
In relationships the little things are the big things. One woman told of growing up in a home where there was a plaque on the kitchen wall that read: “To do carefully and constantly and kindly many little things is not a little thing.”
Cynthia (daughter):
One thing that stands out in my mind about being a teenager is the feeling of being overwhelmed. I remember the pressure of trying to do well in school and being on the debate team and involved in three or four other things all at the same time.
And sometimes I’d come home and I’d find my whole room clean and organized. There would be a note that said, “Love, the Good Fairy,” and I knew Mom had just worked her head off to help me get ahead because I was so overwhelmed with what I had to do.
It really took a load off. I would come into that room and just whisper, “Oh, thank you. Thank you!”
Little kindnesses go a long way toward building relationships of trust and unconditional love. Just think about the impact in your own family of using words or phrases such as thank you, please, excuse me, you go first, and may I help you. Or performing unexpected acts of service such as helping with the dishes, taking children shopping for something that’s important to them, or phoning to see if there’s anything you can pick up at the store on the way home. Or finding little ways to express love, such as sending flowers, tucking a note in a lunch box or briefcase, or phoning to say “I love you” in the middle of the day. Or expressing gratitude and appreciation. Or giving sincere compliments. Or showing recognition—not just at times of special achievement or on occasions such as birthdays but on ordinary days, and just because your spouse or your children are who they are.
Twelve hugs a day—that’s what people need. Hugs come physically, verbally, visually, environmentally. We all need twelve hugs a day—different forms of emotional nourishment from other people or perhaps spiritual nourishment through meditation or prayer.
I know of one woman who grew up in poverty and contention, but came to realize how important such kindness and courtesy are in the home. She learned it where she worked—at a very prestigious hotel where the entire staff had a culture of courtesy toward every guest. She knew how good it made people feel to be treated so royally. She also realized how good it made her feel to perform acts of kindness and courtesy. One day she decided to try acting this way at home with her own family. She began doing little acts of service for family members. She began using language that was positive, gentle, and kind. When serving breakfast, for example, she would say, as she did at work, “It’s my pleasure!” She told me it transformed both her and her family and began a new intergenerational cycle.
One thing my brother John and his wife, Jane, do in their family is take time every morning to compliment one another. Family members take turns being the target for such compliments. And what a difference that makes!
One morning their strong, athletic son—the football hero of the high school—came bounding down the stairs with such energy, such excitement that Jane couldn’t imagine why he was so animated.
“Why are you so excited?” she asked.
“It’s my morning for compliments!” he replied with a smile.
One of the most important dimensions of kindness is expressing appreciation. What an important deposit to make—and to teach—in the family!
Apologizing
Perhaps there is nothing that tests our proactive capacity as much as saying “I’m sorry” to another person. If your security is based on your image or your position or on being right, to apologize is like draining all the juice from your ego. It wipes you out. It pushes every one of your human gifts to its limit.
Colleen (daughter):
Several years ago Matt and I went up to the cabin to be with the whole family for Christmas. I don’t remember the details, but for some reason I was supposed to drive Mom to Salt Lake City the next day. As it happened, I already had another obligation and couldn’t do it. When Dad heard my response, he just exploded—totally lost it.
“You’re being selfish!” he said. “You really need to do this!” And he said a lot of other things he didn’t mean.
Surprised by his abrasive response, I started crying. I was deeply hurt. I was so used to his being understanding and considerate all the time. In fact, in my whole life I can remember only about two times that he really lost his temper with me, so it took me aback. I shouldn’t have taken offense, but I did. Finally, I said, “Okay, I’ll do it,” knowing he wouldn’t listen to my conflict.
I headed home, and my husband came with me. “We’re not going back tonight,” I said. “I don’t even care if we miss the family Christmas party!” And all the way down the canyon I was harboring bad feelings.
Shortly after we got home, the phone rang. Matt answered it. He said, “It’s your dad.”
“I don’t want to talk to him,” I said, still hurt. But I really did, so I finally picked up the phone.
“Darling,” he said, “I apologize. There’s really no excuse that could justify my losing my temper with you, but let me tell you what’s been going on.” He told me that they had just started building the house, finances had been swelling up, things at the business were kind of shaky, and then with Christmas and the whole family there, he had felt so much pressure he blew up and I received the brunt of it. “I just took it all out on you,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I apologize.” I then returned the apology, knowing I had overreacted.
Dad’s apology was a big deposit in my Emotional Bank Account. And we had had a great relationship to begin with.
Matt and I went back up that night, I rearranged my schedule for the next day, took my mom to Salt Lake City, and it was as if nothing had happened. If anything, my dad and I grew closer because he could apologize immediately. I think it took a lot for him to be able to step back from the situation so quickly and say “I’m sorry.”
Even though our temper may surface only one-hundredth of 1 percent of the time, it will affect the quality of all the rest of the time if we do not take responsibility for it and apologize. Why? Because people never know when they might hit our raw nerve, so they’re always inwardly worried about it and defending themselves against it by second-guessing our behavior and curbing their own natural, spontaneous, intuitive responses.
The sooner we learn to apologize, the better. World traditions affirm this idea. The Far Eastern expression is so apt here: “If you’re going to bow, bow low.” A great lesson is also taught in the Bible about paying the uttermost farthing.
Agree with thine adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the way with him; lest at any time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing.
There are undoubtedly a number of ways to apply this instruction in our lives, but one may be this: Whenever we disagree with others, we need to quickly “agree” with them—not on the issue of disagreement (that would compromise our integrity) but on the right to disagree, to see it the way they see it. Otherwise, to protect themselves they will put us into a mental/emotional “prison” in their own mind. And we won’t be released from this prison until we pay the uttermost farthing—until we humbly and fully acknowledge our mistake in not allowing them the right to disagree. And we must do this without in any way saying, “I’ll say I’m sorry if you’ll say you’re sorry.”
If you attempt to pay the uttermost farthing by merely trying to be better and not apologizing, other people may still be suspicious and keep you behind these prison bars, behind the mental and emotional labels they have put on you that give them some feeling of security in knowing not to expect much from you.