The Tongue, That Unruly Member

This is a good reminder for all of us of the power of our words! It is also a good reminder that we need to be diligent in  teaching our children to keep their words wholesome and respectful!

Beautiful Girlhood by Mabel Hale

The tongue is an unruly member, and until it is brought into control by the girl herself, it is ever liable to get her into trouble. If the old rule to “think twice before you speak once” can be remembered and obeyed, much trouble and heartache will be avoided.

When all the efforts at controlling a girl’s tongue are made by parents and teachers instead of by the girl herself, it is like trying to stop a faucet by putting your hand over it. The pressure from within is so strong that ugly words will fly out in spite of these efforts. But when the girl undertakes the task herself, she is able to turn the pressure off so that the words flow smoothly. Not that it will be without struggle; but victory is ahead for every girl who will try.

Every girl should form the habit of speaking in a gentle tone. While she is young the vocal organs can be trained to give out soft tones. Who is it who does not admire a soft and tender tone in a woman’s voice? I have always felt sorry for older women who have from childhood spoken in a loud or harsh tone of voice, for it is practically impossible for them to do otherwise now. But girls can have gentle voices if they will.

No girl can afford to be impudent or saucy. One who is such sets a poor estimate upon herself. When a girl is saucy she shows a lack of respect for elders and superiors, and also a lack of respect for her own good name. Instead of sauciness sounding smart, and making a girl appear clever and independent, it shows her to be rude and egotistical. There is nothing lovely nor desirable about it, and if indulged in to any extent will spoil any girl.

Sauciness is more hateful because it begins at home. Where the girl should be her best she is her worst, for she is always more ugly to her own loved ones than to anyone else. She makes home miserable so far as her influence goes.

Mother and Father may endeavor to be kind and just, but at the least reproof or counsel the mouth of the girl sends out a stinging retort that hurts cruelly. Saucy words cost too much in heartache and tears. They are not found in beautiful girlhood; for where the habit of sauciness is found, the beauty of girlhood is spoiled.

Words can be like swords, cutting deep, not into the flesh but into the tender heart. The time will come, my young friend, when you will gaze upon the still form of one you loved and will regret with tears and sighs the harsh words you have spoken. Do not lay up for yourself sorrow for that time.

The tongue, ungoverned, leads into many wrong channels. By it unkind remarks are made of absent ones. Boasts and threats are uttered, evil suspicions spoken, trouble kindled, and hearts broken. Almost all the sorrow of the world can be traced back to the wrong use of the tongue.

If you could learn the history of almost any neighborhood you would find that someone has suffered, some heart has been wounded or broken, by the gossiping tongue of a neighbor. Gossip of a certain kind is not really wrong. We are naturally interested in the doings of our friends, and like to talk their affairs over in a kind way. And it is one of the strongest curbs on evil doings to know that such will be soundly condemned by the neighbors. We should always be ready to condemn evil deeds.

But when this gossip is mixed with a desire to wound or hurt another, or when the one who is talking is careless of the results of her speeches, gossip becomes sinful and mean. When gossip becomes backbiting, it is one of the worst of sins.

How quickly we would condemn a man who should shoot another in the back, when only a short time before he had pretended to be a friend to him; and we despise a dog that nips our heel; and the girl who will talk about her acquaintances behind their backs and pretend friendship to their faces is just as mean. Any way we view it as evil.

Speaking and backbiting are wrong and entirely unbecoming to beautiful girlhood.

“We must live in the present moment. This is the only moment within our hands, the only one that can make us happy. The past exists no more; let us leave it to the Divine Mercy. And, though it does not yet exist, let us entrust the future to God’s loving Providence and live happily in the present.” -Fr. Narciso Irala, S.J., Achieving Peace of Heart http://amzn.to/2soEBXz (afflink)

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This book consists of fifteen discourses (four on Sins of the Tongue, three on Envy and Jealousy, two on Rash Judgments, two on Christian Patience, and four on Grace) that were originally talks given to laywomen of his diocese in the late 19th century. At the beginning the good Archbishop says… I propose, my children, to give you some instructions on the tongue, and the faults which it causes us to commit. I shall commence today by speaking of the power and beauty of that organ, of the noble use which ought to be made of it, and of the many advantages we may derive from it… There is precious little teaching on the topics covered in these instructions which is accessible to the average man and woman of today.

If you want to make progress in the spiritual life, you can’t afford to miss the bracing insights in this handbook for souls who yearn to be kinder. They’ll give you years of solid help in overcoming sin so that you’ll live more fully with others and truly transform your corner of the world!

Kind Words are Like a Fragrant Odor

Be careful of your words, out of the mouth floweth the heart…..

Beautiful Girlhood by Mabel Hale

“By thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.”

That member, the tongue, what a treacherous thing it is! And how many times it brings its owner into trouble! One writer has said that he who is able to bridle the tongue is a perfect man, and is able to govern the whole body (James 3:2).

Solomon, the wise man of old, has said that “a word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.” A word fitly spoken, how good it is! It will heal a heart that is broken, and turn away wrath (Proverbs 15:1).

Kind words are like a fragrant odor that fills all the house. One person who habitually speaks kindly and considerately can soothe and quiet a household. And such words are not hard to give if the heart is in the right attitude. When one can feel and appreciate the joys and sorrows of others, the right words will come naturally.

Unkind words are the fruits of selfishness. No one likes to be spoken to with harsh words, and if the golden rule is remembered and kept, none will be spoken to others.

Consider the girl among your associates who is most universally liked and you will find her to be a girl who sympathizes with others and who is ever ready to speak a kind and encouraging word. There is no amount of brilliancy that can, in the affections of our friends, take the place of kindness of speech.

A girl is known by her words. Generally the first impression she makes upon strangers is made by her speech. Some remark falls upon their ears, and they form an opinion of the speaker founded upon the nature of that remark.

If she is heard speaking considerately and sympathetically, they think of her as kind and agreeable; but if she is loud and boisterous in her speech, or if her remark is unkind and spiteful, they form the opposite opinion.

Many girls have to overcome prejudice in the minds of others—prejudice which the girls have created against themselves by their own hasty speeches. It never pays to blurt out harsh or unkind speech, no matter how provoking the occasion may be.

To avoid speaking unkindly at any time, it is well to form habits of kindness. Betty had formed the habit of bidding Mother goodbye each morning and noon as she set off for school. This goodbye was spoken in the kindest of tones and with a note of tenderness that cheered her mother all the day.

One morning a stranger was present as Betty set off, and as she passed out the door she called back in her usual way, “Goodbye, Mother.”

Tears sprang up to the stranger’s eyes, and he said, “A girl like that is a treasure. You ought to be happy to have her speak so to you.” Betty’s little farewell, said without a thought, had wonderfully impressed the man.

“When rumors, curiosity, gossip, and the vanities of the world threaten to overwhelm us, let us quickly retire by a swift interior movement to the Heart of Jesus; there we shall always find recollection and peace.” – Divine Intimacy http://amzn.to/2soEBXz (afflink)

What happened to Veronica’s veil was simply an outward expression of what happened in Veronica’s soul. Are we “Veronica’s” in our everyday life? Do we seek to serve, to encourage, to listen….?

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This book consists of fifteen discourses (four on Sins of the Tongue, three on Envy and Jealousy, two on Rash Judgments, two on Christian Patience, and four on Grace) that were originally talks given to laywomen of his diocese in the late 19th century. At the beginning the good Archbishop says… I propose, my children, to give you some instructions on the tongue, and the faults which it causes us to commit. I shall commence today by speaking of the power and beauty of that organ, of the noble use which ought to be made of it, and of the many advantages we may derive from it… There is precious little teaching on the topics covered in these instructions which is accessible to the average man and woman of today.

In this book you’ll learn:
-•Four ways you can become more considerate . . . immediately!
-Sympathy: why it’s your spiritual responsibility to show it to others and five ways you can start doing so
-Three things to do and three things you must not do in order to grow kinder quickly
-Four surprising reasons why it’s spiritually dangerous to criticize others
-•Three sure-fire remedies to eliminate sinful anger from your life
-•Seven ways you can turn to your own spiritual benefit the wrongs that others do to you
-Six ways you can find and root out the hidden envy that may be choking your spirit right now
-•And much more to help you grow kinder and holier!
-Practical step-by-step instructions for overcoming all forms of unkindness and meanness

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The Government of the Tongue

Article from Counsels of Perfection for Christian Mothers by The Very Reverend P. Lejeune, 1913

No one has described better than the Apostle St. James, how great a power the tongue has for good or evil in our spiritual life “If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man. He is able also with a bridle to turn about the whole body.

“For if we put bits into the mouths of horses, that they may obey us, and we turn about their whole body.

“Behold also ships, whereas they are great, and are driven by strong winds, yet are they turned about by a small helm, whithersoever the force of the governor willeth.

“Even so the tongue is, indeed, a little member, and boasteth great things. Behold how small a fire kindleth a great wood.

“And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity. The tongue is placed among our members, which defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the wheel of our nativity, being set on fire by hell.

“For every kind of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and of the rest, is tamed, and hath been tamed by man.

“But the tongue no man can tame a restless evil, full of deadly poison.

“By it we bless God and the Father: and by it we curse men, who are made after the likeness of God.

“Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not so to be.” (St. James, Ch. III, verse 2-10.)

Which of the two, man or woman, guards the tongue better, and suffers less from a prurience to speak? This is an odious question which I shall not venture to answer. I shall leave it to those moralists who are more solicitous to give point to an epigram than to observe facts.

It is relatively easy to ridicule woman’s excessive desire to talk, and her horror of silence. But a man who might have at his service the wit of Rabelais, or the cunning humor of La Fontaine, would not be a fair judge in a debate of this kind.

Therefore the simplest way out of the difficulty is to confess that this prurience to talk is a defect of human nature, and a temptation which all of us, men and women alike, must vigorously combat.

What is the aim of that woman who gives herself up to continual babbling? Her aim, of course, is to shine among her acquaintances, to win their esteem, and compel their admiration.

But she often finds that she has attained a result diametrically opposed to that which she sought.

If she is wise, she can often read on the faces of her listeners, those words which were uttered in the time of Cicero : “Empty barrels make the most noise.” She seeks to please those with whom she converses, and lo! she wearies and fatigues them.

“If babblers suffered as much as they make others suffer,” says one of the ancients, “they would soon be cured of their excessive desire to speak.”

My daughters, here is a just duty which is incumbent upon you. You must keep a severe guard over your conversation.

Now your principle aim, I take it, is not to have yourselves reputed as persons of fine style and agreeable intercourse. You are Christians, hence you regard the opinion of God a thousand times more than that of the world. Therefore, you will pay more attention to arguments of the supernatural order, than to worldly arguments.

I conjure you to exercise a severe vigilance over your words, because, according to the teaching of Holy Scripture, sin is always accompanied by an unbridled loquacity and useless babbling.

My daughters, you know from experience that all conversation in which you have not guarded the tongue, was a source of remorse to you. You know well that from such and such a visit, during which you have yielded to your excessive desire to gossip, you have come away with a troubled conscience.

The question arose in your mind and demanded an answer, “Was the fault that I committed grave?”

Now this question did not always proceed from an exaggerated delicacy of conscience. It was the expression of a well-founded fear of having fallen into mortal sin.

Be on your guard, my daughters. You are on dangerous ground when you give expression to every thought that passes through your mind.

You must take counsel from God, and say to Him: “Have I the right to say this?”

If you are not extremely watchful you will fall before you know it, and unwittingly exceed the limit which separates venial from mortal sin.

Let me give you the teaching of Catholic theology on this matter : Every slander is grave when it is of such a nature as to cause serious injury to your neighbor’s reputation.

It is not necessary to know the gravity of the slander by searching out what damage it has actually caused to your neighbor. It is sufficient to ask yourself this question: “Was this slander of such a nature as to injure my neighbor?” If it was not, there is a venial sin, if it was, the sin is mortal.

To know why this teaching of Catholic theology is so severe, let us invert the order.

Suppose you have been slandered. Oh then what a clamor you make. All vengeance, divine and human united cannot weigh too heavily upon the impudent wretch who has dared to sully your reputation.

Judge then the value that your neighbor attaches to her reputation and conclude that God is right in becoming the defender of the absent against the wickedness of the slanderer.

It is useless to affirm to yourselves or your friends, with your eyes raised towards Heaven, that you have the purest of intentions. This fashion of stabbing your neighbor, for the greater glory of God, is disgusting. It cannot be too deeply branded.

I know of no more repugnant spectacle than that of a person who makes a profession of piety, and then tears her neighbor’s reputation to pieces.

But how shall we brand the act of that person who communicates frequently, and who, in a gathering of friends, becomes the echo of malevolent words which do injury to some good work, or taint the reputation of some cleric.

“Oh my dear, I do not believe a word of it myself, but this is what someone said about Father so and so.”

But are you, who repeat these remarks, aware that in thus converting these slanderous words into one stream, you become the echo of the slander of others? I judge your action very severely, and I tremble when I find you piously posing before the Holy Table on the next morning.

“When a doctor visits a sick man,” says a certain moralist, “he asks to see his tongue. That organ gives him a certain indication as to the general health of the sick man. So, from a spiritual point of view, we can tell the condition of the soul by the tongue.”

My daughters, if you abandon yourselves to all the intemperances of the tongue, it is a positive sign that your souls are spiritually ill. If, on the contrary, you keep a strict watch over the tongue and prevent its excesses, rejoice: your soul is spiritually healthy.

Learn to judge yourselves by this rule. Generously sacrifice for God’s sake, every word however trivial it may be, which might offend against the virtue of charity, or cause injury to your neighbor.

The homes of many who pretend to be Christians are often schools of slander, mockery and disparagement. If an unbeliever were to assist at a repast in one of these families pretending to Christian etiquette, and reputed to be practical Catholics, he would be astonished to find malignity where he looked for the full blossom of charity, that chosen flower of the Master.

What a responsibility hangs over those mothers who tolerate these detestable practices, and who, instead of holding up a high ideal to their children, let them wallow in vulgar gossip, and even encourage them in their deplorable propensity to criticize and defame every one and everything.

I conjure you, my daughters, to preserve a strict watch over your tongues, and never to pronounce before your children one single word that is contrary to charity. Then only will you have the right to preach the horror of scandal to them.

Moreover, in this matter, your example is the only preaching needed. You are the model for all the members of your family. Let this sentiment of your responsibility, stimulate you to reject from your conversation, all rash judgments, and every habit of criticism which your children might adopt unknown to you.

St. Augustine had these words posted in his refectory: “Speak not ill of the absent.” This motto proved that he was not only a saint but also a man of honor.

My daughters, you will do well to post up this motto in your homes, at least in practice. You yourselves should see that your family lives up to it.

Your voice, with a sweet firmness, should remind those who are prone to forget, that with you, and before you, no evil must be spoken of the absent.

“A desire to be beautiful is not unwomanly. A woman who is not beautiful cannot properly fill her place. But, mark you, true beauty is not of the face, but of the soul. There is a beauty so deep and lasting that it will shine out of the homeliest face and make it comely. This is the beauty to be first sought and admired. It is a quality of the mind and heart and is manifested in word and deed.” – Beautiful Girlhood, Mabel Hale http://amzn.to/2pOKmtj (afflink) Illustration by http://www.genevievegodboutillustration.com/

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Kind Words are Like a Fragrant Odor

Be careful of your words, out of the mouth floweth the heart…..

Beautiful Girlhood by Mabel Hale

“By thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.”

That member, the tongue, what a treacherous thing it is! And how many times it brings its owner into trouble! One writer has said that he who is able to bridle the tongue is a perfect man, and is able to govern the whole body (James 3:2).

Solomon, the wise man of old, has said that “a word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.” A word fitly spoken, how good it is! It will heal a heart that is broken, and turn away wrath (Proverbs 15:1).

Kind words are like a fragrant odor that fills all the house. One person who habitually speaks kindly and considerately can soothe and quiet a household. And such words are not hard to give if the heart is in the right attitude. When one can feel and appreciate the joys and sorrows of others, the right words will come naturally.

The Tongue, That Unruly Member

This is a good reminder for all of us of the power of our words! It is also a good reminder that we need to be diligent in  teaching our children to keep their words wholesome and respectful!

Beautiful Girlhood by Mabel Hale

The tongue is an unruly member, and until it is brought into control by the girl herself, it is ever liable to get her into trouble. If the old rule to “think twice before you speak once” can be remembered and obeyed, much trouble and heartache will be avoided.

When all the efforts at controlling a girl’s tongue are made by parents and teachers instead of by the girl herself, it is like trying to stop a faucet by putting your hand over it. The pressure from within is so strong that ugly words will fly out in spite of these efforts. But when the girl undertakes the task herself, she is able to turn the pressure off so that the words flow smoothly. Not that it will be without struggle; but victory is ahead for every girl who will try.

Communication, Anyone?

Tags

communication, nagging

The following excerpts discuss that coveted “C” word – Communication.

 

Keep the Lines of Communication Open – Good Wife’s Guide, Darlene Schacht

A lot of women will say that their husbands don’t talk enough, but yet he was plenty talkative while they were dating. What gives?

A nagging wife will often use methods of shame, blame, criticism and guilt to get her way, and as a result men build walls of protection around them.

We don’t mean to do it, but when feelings get hurt or when we feel neglected we tend to act out.

Unfortunately nagging can become a habit for some. After a while, the methods of communication that once worked stop working, and the couple is left void.

If you want your husband to trust you with his heart as he once did, it’s important to practice self-control, hold your tongue, and replace criticism with kindness. Listen when he talks and make an effort to show him respect.

Cools His Feelings – Fascinating Womanhood, Helen Andelin

Any attempt to change your husband can dampen his feelings for you. Even only an implication that he doesn’t measure up to your standards can cool his attitude.

Your open suggestion that he needs to improve can lead to his rejection of you. This can be the beginning of a break in communication which can last for hours or even days.

He may avoid the situation by spending a great amount of time away from home with his friends, or in other interests or pursuits. Not only can love be cooled, in some cases it can be destroyed.

When a wife doesn’t give her husband the freedom to be himself, when she constantly pushes and nettles him to change, it can cause the destruction of a happy marriage.

Communication, The Key To Intimacy? – Surrendered Wife, Laura Doyle

Forget the notion that “more communication” is the key to an intimate marriage. Some things that are perfectly reasonable to discuss with women are not so comfortable for men.

Talking about feelings is not a popular pastime in the male culture, so to be polite, don’t ask about them, but continue to share yours.

Generally, men talk far less each day than women, so don’t expect your husband to want to talk as much as you.

The truth is, the less you communicate your complaints, negative thoughts, and criticisms to your husband, the better your intimacy will be, and the stronger your marriage.

Withholding information from your husband may feel dishonest, but it’s really being mature and polite. Men have a culture all their own and being a diplomat in it will improve domestic relations dramatically.

 

One who, in order to please God, perseveres in prayer although he finds no consolation in it, but rather repugnance, gives Him a beautiful proof of true love. –Fr. Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, Divine Intimacy

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Like a Breath of Fresh Air….

It is always good to be reminded of the courtesy and respect we owe to those nearest and dearest to us!

100 Ways To Love Your Husband by Lisa Jacobson

It all began in a cafe, like so many of the meaningful moments in my life. He and I were sitting together over a grande latte in the newly-opened coffee shop at the Green Hills Mall when my dear friend Susan walked in.

My face lit up as soon as I spotted her. She and I had only known each other for a short time, but we’d made an immediate connection the minute we met…Soul-sisters.

Our young family had recently moved to Nashville and I’d felt rather alone up until then. Being with her was like a breath of fresh air to me.

So I shot her my sunniest smile, “Hey, girlfriend! C’mon over!”

A big hug before both of us began bubbling over with all the latest news. I complimented her on her new dress. I told her how much I liked the way she was wearing her hair. I thanked her for the book she’d lent me and emphasized how glad I was to see her!

At some point, I noticed how subdued my husband had become. I waited until she’d left us, then asked him what was up. Something was clearly on his mind. I could tell that much.

He said it so softly, I barely heard him. “I wish you’d do that for me.”

“Okay, I don’t mean to be difficult… but do what??”

“Light up with a sweet smile. Speak kindly and say nice things.”

No further explanation was needed. I knew EXACTLY what he was talking about. And he was right. I was all smiles for Susan. Saved my grumpies for him. Rarely bothered with the niceties anymore. Not particularly gracious or polite.

In all honesty? I didn’t offer too much of this kind of thing to my husband. He was supposed to love me “just the way I was”. No frills or syrup for him.

But how hurtful for him to see me put on my “sweet face” for everyone else—everyone except the man to whom I’d pledged my lifelong love. Here I was handing out the big smiles and warm compliments to my new friend….and dribbling out the tired frowns and whiny complaints to him. There’s something not quite right about that.

Now don’t feel badly if you’re cringing. I was cringing too. Somewhat sickened, really….Definitely convicted.

So, girlfriend, that’s what got me thinking…. If we’re putting on our brightest smiles for our sisters… If we’re saving our warmest words for our friends…. If we’re sharing our kindest thoughts with the girls….

Then we might want to consider how hard it must be for him to watch. Maybe he doesn’t mention it, but my guess is that he’d appreciate some of that warmth and kindness shown to him too.

So even if he’s around most every day, why not light up when he walks in the room? Tell him how handsome he’s looking today…. How glad you are to see him. A big hug and maybe a bit more. Put on your sweet face and say nice things.

Be like a breath of fresh air to him.

Be a kind wife.

 

 

“Home should not be just a place. Rather, it must be THE place. All else should be ‘outside.’ Home should be the center of activities and interests. It was built for births, courtship, marriage, and death. It is maintained so that children might grow, trained by precept and example – so that they will develop spiritually, mentally, and emotionally, just as they do physically.”
– Fr. Lawrence G. Lovasik. The Catholic Family Handbook

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God’s Gift of Words-A Story of Teddy

A reminder today of the gift God has given us….the gift of our words. Will we realize the power and choose our words rightly? Sharon Jaynes has a story to tell about the power of a woman’s words…..

The Power of a Woman’s Words

by Sharon Jaynes

GOD HAS GIVEN us an incredible treasure—this gift of words. But the gift wasn’t meant to be hoarded or ill used. The gift is to be opened and shared to help others be all that God intended them to be. Miss Thompson, a school teacher who taught fifth grade, saw firsthand how an encouraging word can change the course of a day…the course of a life. Here’s her story:

Three Letters from Teddy Teddy’s letter came today and now that I’ve read it, I will place it in my cedar chest with the other things that are important to my life. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”

I smiled as I read the words he had written, and my heart swelled with a pride that I had no right to feel.

Teddy Stallard. I have not seen Teddy Stallard since he was a student in my fifth-grade class, fifteen years ago. I’m ashamed to say that from the first day he stepped into my classroom, I disliked Teddy.

Teachers try hard not to have favorites in a class, but we try even harder not to show dislike for a child, any child. Nevertheless, every year there are one or two children that one cannot help but be attached to, for teachers are human, and it is human nature to like bright, pretty, intelligent people, whether they are ten years old or twenty-five.

And sometimes, not too often fortunately, there will be one or two students to whom the teacher just can’t seem to relate. I had thought myself quite capable of handling my personal feelings along that line until Teddy walked into my life.

There wasn’t a child I particularly liked that year, but Teddy was most assuredly one I disliked. He was a dirty little boy. Not just occasionally, but all the time.

His hair hung low over his ears, and he actually had to hold it out of his eyes as he wrote his papers in class. (And this was before it was fashionable to do so!)

Too, he had a peculiar odor about him that I could never identify.

Yes, his physical faults were many, but his intellect left a lot to be desired. By the end of the first week I knew he was hopelessly behind the others. Not only was he behind, he was just plain slow!

Any teacher will tell you that it’s more of a pleasure to teach a bright child. It is definitely more rewarding for one’s ego.

But any teacher worth his or her credentials can channel work to the bright child, keeping that child challenged and learning, while the major effort is with the slower ones.

Any teacher can do this. Most teachers do, but I didn’t. Not that year.

In fact, I concentrated on my best students and let the others follow along as best they could.

Ashamed as I am to admit it, I took perverse pleasure in using my red pen; and each time I came to Teddy’s papers, the cross-marks (and they were many) were always a little larger and a little redder than necessary.

“Poor work!” I would write with a flourish.

While I did not actually ridicule the boy, my attitude was obviously quite apparent to the class, for he quickly became the class “goat,” the outcast—the unlovable and the unloved.

He knew I didn’t like him, but he didn’t know why. Nor did I know—then or now—why I felt such an intense dislike for him.

All I know is that he was a little boy no one cared about, and I made no effort on his behalf.

The days rolled by and we made it through the Fall Festival, the Thanksgiving holidays, and I continued marking happily with my red pen. As our Christmas break approached, I knew that Teddy would never catch up in time to be promoted to the sixth-grade level. He would be a repeater.

To justify myself, I went to his cumulative folder from time to time. He had very low grades for the first four years, but no grade failure. How he had made it, I didn’t know.

I closed my mind to the personal remarks:

First Grade: “Teddy shows promise by work and attitude, but he has a poor home situation.”

Second Grade: “Teddy could do better. Mother terminally ill. He receives little help at home.”

Third Grade: “Teddy is a pleasant boy. Helpful, but too serious. Slow learner. Mother passed away end of the year.”

Fourth Grade: “Very slow but well behaved. Father shows no interest.”

Well, they passed him four times, but he will certainly repeat fifth grade! Do him good! I said to myself.

And then the last day before the holidays arrived. Our little tree on the reading table sported paper and popcorn chains. Many gifts were heaped underneath, waiting for the big moment.

Teachers always get several gifts at Christmas, but mine that year seemed bigger and more elaborate than ever. There was not a student who had not brought me one. Each unwrapping brought squeals of delight and the proud giver would receive effusive thank-yous.

His gift wasn’t the last one I picked up. In fact it was in the middle of the pile. Its wrapping was a brown paper bag, and he had colored Christmas trees and red bells all over it. It was stuck together with masking tape. “For Miss Thompson—From Teddy.” The group was completely silent and I felt conspicuous, embarrassed because they all stood watching me unwrap that gift.

As I removed the last bit of masking tape, two items fell to my desk. A gaudy rhinestone bracelet with several stones missing and a small bottle of dime-store cologne—half empty.

I could hear the snickers and whispers, and I wasn’t sure I could look at Teddy.

“Isn’t this lovely?” I asked, placing the bracelet on my wrist. “Teddy, would you help me fasten it?” He smiled shyly as he fixed the clasp, and I held up my wrist for all of them to admire.

There were a few hesitant ooh’s and ahh’s, but, as I dabbed the cologne behind my ears, all the little girls lined up for a dab behind their ears. I continued to open the gifts until I reached the bottom of the pile.

We ate our refreshments until the bell rang. The children filed out with shouts of “See you next year!” and “Merry Christmas!” but Teddy waited at his desk.

When they had all left, he walked toward me clutching his gift and books to his chest. “You smell just like Mom,” he said softly. “Her bracelet looks real pretty on you, too. I’m glad you liked it.”

He left quickly and I locked the door, sat down at my desk and wept, resolving to make up to Teddy what I had deliberately deprived him of—a teacher who cared.

I stayed every afternoon with Teddy from the day class resumed on January 2 until the last day of school. Sometimes we worked together. Sometimes he worked alone while I drew up lesson plans or graded papers.

Slowly but surely he caught up with the rest of the class. Gradually there was a definite upward curve in his grades. He did not have to repeat the fifth grade.

In fact, his final averages were among the highest in the class, and although I knew he would be moving out of the state when school was out, I was not worried for him.

Teddy had reached a level that would stand him in good stead the following year, no matter where he went. He had enjoyed a measure of success, and as we were taught in our education courses: “Success builds success.”

I did not hear from Teddy until several years later when his first letter appeared in my mailbox.

Dear Miss Thompson,

I just wanted you to be the first to know. I will be graduating second in my class on May 25 from E______High School.

Very truly yours, Teddy Stallard

I sent him a card of congratulations and a small package, a pen and pencil set. I wondered what he would do after graduation.

I found out four years later when Teddy’s second letter came.

Dear Miss Thompson,

I was just informed today that I’ll be graduating first in my class. The university has been a little tough but I’ll miss it.

Very truly yours, Teddy Stallard

I sent him a good pair of sterling silver monogrammed cuff links and a card, so proud of him I could burst!

And now—today—Teddy’s third letter:

Dear Miss Thompson,

I wanted you to be the first to know. As of today I am Theodore J. Stallard, MD. How about that???!!! I’m going to be married on July 27, and I’m hoping you can come and sit where Mom would sit if she were here. I’ll have no family there as Dad died last year.

Very truly yours, Ted Stallard

I’m not sure what kind of gift one sends to a doctor on completion of medical school. Maybe I’ll just wait and take a wedding gift, but the note can’t wait.

Dear Ted,

Congratulations! You made it and you did it yourself! In spite of those like me and not because of us, this day has come for you. God bless you. I’ll be at that wedding with bells on!!!

Miss Thompson changed the course of one little boy’s life. She gave Teddy words that built him up when he felt as though life had knocked him down for good. Can’t you hear her now? “Great job, Teddy!” “You can do it!”

She became the wind beneath his wings when he felt as though he had been grounded from flight. And years later, she had a front row seat as she watched him soar into his future.

That is the power of a woman’s words. An incredible gift God has given those created in His very image.

Like Finer Femininity on Facebook

*******************************************************************

 

“Our words do more than just make our children feel good. Our words can make them feel like somebody who can accomplish great dreams or like a nobody who is destined to be a loser.”
“Affirming words from Moms and Dads are like light switches. Speak a word of affirmation at the right moment in a child’s life, and it’s like lighting up a whole roomful of possibilities.” – The Power of a Woman’s Words

*******************************************************************

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Communication, Anyone?

Tags

communication, nagging

The following excerpts discuss that coveted “C” word – Communication.

Keep the Lines of Communication Open – Good Wife’s Guide, Darlene Schacht

A lot of women will say that their husbands don’t talk enough, but yet he was plenty talkative while they were dating. What gives?

A nagging wife will often use methods of shame, blame, criticism and guilt to get her way, and as a result men build walls of protection around them.

We don’t mean to do it, but when feelings get hurt or when we feel neglected we tend to act out.

Unfortunately nagging can become a habit for some. After a while, the methods of communication that once worked stop working, and the couple is left void.

If you want your husband to trust you with his heart as he once did, it’s important to practice self-control, hold your tongue, and replace criticism with kindness. Listen when he talks and make an effort to show him respect.

Cools His Feelings – Fascinating Womanhood, Helen Andelin

Any attempt to change your husband can dampen his feelings for you. Even only an implication that he doesn’t measure up to your standards can cool his attitude.

Your open suggestion that he needs to improve can lead to his rejection of you. This can be the beginning of a break in communication which can last for hours or even days.

He may avoid the situation by spending a great amount of time away from home with his friends, or in other interests or pursuits. Not only can love be cooled, in some cases it can be destroyed.

When a wife doesn’t give her husband the freedom to be himself, when she constantly pushes and nettles him to change, it can cause the destruction of a happy marriage.

Communication, The Key To Intimacy? – Surrendered Wife, Laura Doyle

Forget the notion that “more communication” is the key to an intimate marriage. Some things that are perfectly reasonable to discuss with women are not so comfortable for men.

Talking about feelings is not a popular pastime in the male culture, so to be polite, don’t ask about them, but continue to share yours.

Generally, men talk far less each day than women, so don’t expect your husband to want to talk as much as you.

The truth is, the less you communicate your complaints, negative thoughts, and criticisms to your husband, the better your intimacy will be, and the stronger your marriage.

Withholding information from your husband may feel dishonest, but it’s really being mature and polite. Men have a culture all their own and being a diplomat in it will improve domestic relations dramatically.

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Let us desire to let the love of Our Lord have its way in us this Christmas; to forget ourselves and to make happiness for others; to do something to make the world brighter and sweeter, and a better place to live in….

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You are Invited……If you are in the area, come on by!

 

God’s Gift of Words-A Story of Teddy

The Power of a Woman’s Words

by Sharon Jaynes

GOD HAS GIVEN us an incredible treasure—this gift of words. But the gift wasn’t meant to be hoarded or ill used. The gift is to be opened and shared to help others be all that God intended them to be. Miss Thompson, a school teacher who taught fifth grade, saw firsthand how an encouraging word can change the course of a day…the course of a life. Here’s her story:

Three Letters from Teddy Teddy’s letter came today and now that I’ve read it, I will place it in my cedar chest with the other things that are important to my life. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”

I smiled as I read the words he had written, and my heart swelled with a pride that I had no right to feel.

Teddy Stallard. I have not seen Teddy Stallard since he was a student in my fifth-grade class, fifteen years ago. I’m ashamed to say that from the first day he stepped into my classroom, I disliked Teddy.

Teachers try hard not to have favorites in a class, but we try even harder not to show dislike for a child, any child. Nevertheless, every year there are one or two children that one cannot help but be attached to, for teachers are human, and it is human nature to like bright, pretty, intelligent people, whether they are ten years old or twenty-five.

And sometimes, not too often fortunately, there will be one or two students to whom the teacher just can’t seem to relate. I had thought myself quite capable of handling my personal feelings along that line until Teddy walked into my life.

There wasn’t a child I particularly liked that year, but Teddy was most assuredly one I disliked. He was a dirty little boy. Not just occasionally, but all the time.

His hair hung low over his ears, and he actually had to hold it out of his eyes as he wrote his papers in class. (And this was before it was fashionable to do so!)

Too, he had a peculiar odor about him that I could never identify.

Yes, his physical faults were many, but his intellect left a lot to be desired. By the end of the first week I knew he was hopelessly behind the others. Not only was he behind, he was just plain slow!

Any teacher will tell you that it’s more of a pleasure to teach a bright child. It is definitely more rewarding for one’s ego.

But any teacher worth his or her credentials can channel work to the bright child, keeping that child challenged and learning, while the major effort is with the slower ones.

Any teacher can do this. Most teachers do, but I didn’t. Not that year.

In fact, I concentrated on my best students and let the others follow along as best they could.

Ashamed as I am to admit it, I took perverse pleasure in using my red pen; and each time I came to Teddy’s papers, the cross-marks (and they were many) were always a little larger and a little redder than necessary.

“Poor work!” I would write with a flourish.

While I did not actually ridicule the boy, my attitude was obviously quite apparent to the class, for he quickly became the class “goat,” the outcast—the unlovable and the unloved.

He knew I didn’t like him, but he didn’t know why. Nor did I know—then or now—why I felt such an intense dislike for him.

All I know is that he was a little boy no one cared about, and I made no effort on his behalf.

The days rolled by and we made it through the Fall Festival, the Thanksgiving holidays, and I continued marking happily with my red pen. As our Christmas break approached, I knew that Teddy would never catch up in time to be promoted to the sixth-grade level. He would be a repeater.

To justify myself, I went to his cumulative folder from time to time. He had very low grades for the first four years, but no grade failure. How he had made it, I didn’t know.

I closed my mind to the personal remarks:

First Grade: “Teddy shows promise by work and attitude, but he has a poor home situation.”

Second Grade: “Teddy could do better. Mother terminally ill. He receives little help at home.”

Third Grade: “Teddy is a pleasant boy. Helpful, but too serious. Slow learner. Mother passed away end of the year.”

Fourth Grade: “Very slow but well behaved. Father shows no interest.”

Well, they passed him four times, but he will certainly repeat fifth grade! Do him good! I said to myself.

And then the last day before the holidays arrived. Our little tree on the reading table sported paper and popcorn chains. Many gifts were heaped underneath, waiting for the big moment.

Teachers always get several gifts at Christmas, but mine that year seemed bigger and more elaborate than ever. There was not a student who had not brought me one. Each unwrapping brought squeals of delight and the proud giver would receive effusive thank-yous.

His gift wasn’t the last one I picked up. In fact it was in the middle of the pile. Its wrapping was a brown paper bag, and he had colored Christmas trees and red bells all over it. It was stuck together with masking tape. “For Miss Thompson—From Teddy.” The group was completely silent and I felt conspicuous, embarrassed because they all stood watching me unwrap that gift.

As I removed the last bit of masking tape, two items fell to my desk. A gaudy rhinestone bracelet with several stones missing and a small bottle of dime-store cologne—half empty.

I could hear the snickers and whispers, and I wasn’t sure I could look at Teddy.

“Isn’t this lovely?” I asked, placing the bracelet on my wrist. “Teddy, would you help me fasten it?” He smiled shyly as he fixed the clasp, and I held up my wrist for all of them to admire.

There were a few hesitant ooh’s and ahh’s, but, as I dabbed the cologne behind my ears, all the little girls lined up for a dab behind their ears. I continued to open the gifts until I reached the bottom of the pile.

We ate our refreshments until the bell rang. The children filed out with shouts of “See you next year!” and “Merry Christmas!” but Teddy waited at his desk.

When they had all left, he walked toward me clutching his gift and books to his chest. “You smell just like Mom,” he said softly. “Her bracelet looks real pretty on you, too. I’m glad you liked it.”

He left quickly and I locked the door, sat down at my desk and wept, resolving to make up to Teddy what I had deliberately deprived him of—a teacher who cared.

I stayed every afternoon with Teddy from the day class resumed on January 2 until the last day of school. Sometimes we worked together. Sometimes he worked alone while I drew up lesson plans or graded papers.

Slowly but surely he caught up with the rest of the class. Gradually there was a definite upward curve in his grades. He did not have to repeat the fifth grade.

In fact, his final averages were among the highest in the class, and although I knew he would be moving out of the state when school was out, I was not worried for him.

Teddy had reached a level that would stand him in good stead the following year, no matter where he went. He had enjoyed a measure of success, and as we were taught in our education courses: “Success builds success.”

I did not hear from Teddy until several years later when his first letter appeared in my mailbox.

Dear Miss Thompson,

I just wanted you to be the first to know. I will be graduating second in my class on May 25 from E______High School.

Very truly yours, Teddy Stallard

I sent him a card of congratulations and a small package, a pen and pencil set. I wondered what he would do after graduation.

I found out four years later when Teddy’s second letter came.

Dear Miss Thompson,

I was just informed today that I’ll be graduating first in my class. The university has been a little tough but I’ll miss it.

Very truly yours, Teddy Stallard

I sent him a good pair of sterling silver monogrammed cuff links and a card, so proud of him I could burst!

And now—today—Teddy’s third letter:

Dear Miss Thompson,

I wanted you to be the first to know. As of today I am Theodore J. Stallard, MD. How about that???!!! I’m going to be married on July 27, and I’m hoping you can come and sit where Mom would sit if she were here. I’ll have no family there as Dad died last year.

Very truly yours, Ted Stallard

I’m not sure what kind of gift one sends to a doctor on completion of medical school. Maybe I’ll just wait and take a wedding gift, but the note can’t wait.

Dear Ted,

Congratulations! You made it and you did it yourself! In spite of those like me and not because of us, this day has come for you. God bless you. I’ll be at that wedding with bells on!!!

Miss Thompson changed the course of one little boy’s life. She gave Teddy words that built him up when he felt as though life had knocked him down for good. Can’t you hear her now? “Great job, Teddy!” “You can do it!”

She became the wind beneath his wings when he felt as though he had been grounded from flight. And years later, she had a front row seat as she watched him soar into his future.

That is the power of a woman’s words. An incredible gift God has given those created in His very image.

Like Finer Femininity on Facebook

*******************************************************************

 

“Our words do more than just make our children feel good. Our words can make them feel like somebody who can accomplish great dreams or like a nobody who is destined to be a loser.”
“Affirming words from Moms and Dads are like light switches. Speak a word of affirmation at the right moment in a child’s life, and it’s like lighting up a whole roomful of possibilities.” – The Power of a Woman’s Words