Abraham Lincoln: ‘Everybody likes a compliment’

It was one of those dreary, cold and windy days — so much so that I was certain to pass on my usual neighborhood walk and spend the day in a sour mood. Then at mid-morning my daughter-inlaw’s sister, Negin, called me, suggesting we go to lunch.

“But the weather,” I responded. “Come on,” she said laughing, “we can do it.” She picked me up an hour later and decided we’d try a new, nearby restaurant that was built to look like a train dining car.

The diner was a bright spot in our turn off the main road — literally. It was lit up with more silvery bulbs than you could count. As we entered the shiny car, we were quickly greeted by a young, smiling host, who appeared to be somewhat nervous. She was overdressed for her position, wearing an outfit made of exquisite silk chiffon, more appropriate for a formal party than a diner. As the son of a seamstress who taught me the basics of cloth and patterns, I knew it was an expensive dress, which signified to me that the host really wanted to impress on this job, perhaps her first one.

“You are so pretty,” said Negin to the host, who lit up like the bright lights surrounding her greeting post. Startled, she said softly, “thank you,” with a slight blush, but a more relaxed stance. When Negin and I got to our booth, I remarked to Negin how thoughtful it was for her to recognize the host with a gracious compliment. No doubt, the host was pretty, but it’s so unusual to give a greeting of charm and warmth to someone who is a total stranger.

We had an absolutely delightful 90-minute lunch, with conversation so warm that the state of the weather was totally forgotten. But I couldn’t help thinking after we parted for the day how meaningful those complimentary words would be to me for days afterward.

So much of the thought we put into our words is focused on our rights to say them, at least according to contemporary news media. Although a cherished right, free speech has its limits, as does virtually every human action. And daily life is not typically dominated by issues involving freedom of speech. It is dominated by choice — of actions and of words.

Henry David Thoreau once wrote: “It is the man determines what is said, not the words.” So what shall I choose today, from this unbelievably large lexicon of words, to go about my daily business? How will I deal with my fellow workers, family members, friends and, yes, even total strangers, to bring harmony to the day?

To children in earlier times, teachers tried to imbue the philosophy of adherence to good actions and words over bad deeds and speech. But while the latter shouldn’t happen, if it did, one should never resort to retribution: “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” the lesson went. But that was a lie, we know as adults; words can indeed hurt. They can devastate and debilitate, destroy relationships, launch wars and render others speechless by their cruelty.

But they can also uplift. Kind, complimentary words can strike at the highest levels of the brain’s good-feeling barometer, raising spirits and confidence. As Abraham Lincoln, whose birthday was Feb. 12, noted, “everybody likes a compliment.”

Inspired by Negin, I shall make a point of giving more of them.