- Published on
The Two Kinds of People
There are two kinds of people on earth to-day;
Just two kinds of people, no more, I say.
Not the sinner and saint, for it’s well understood,
The good are half bad and the bad are half good.
Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man’s wealth,
You must first know the state of his conscience and health.
Not the humble and proud, for in life’s little span,
Who puts on vain airs is not counted a man.
Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying years
Bring each man his laughter and each man his tears.
No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean,
Are the people who lift and the people who lean.
Wherever you go, you will find the earth’s masses
Are always divided in just these two classes.
And, oddly enough, you will find, too, I ween,
There’s only one lifter to twenty who lean.
In which class are you? Are you easing the load
Of overtaxed lifters, who toil down the road?
Or are you a leaner, who lets others share
Your portion of labor, and worry and care?
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Ella Wheeler Wilcox was born on 5 November 1850 in Johnstown, Rock County, Wisconsin, United States of America. She became a poet, a writer, and a journalist. Ella Wheeler Wilcox passed on at 68 years of age on 30 October 1919 in Short Beach, New Haven County, Connecticut, United States of America.
There are two kinds of people on earth to-day;
Just two kinds of people, no more, I say.
Not the sinner and saint, for it’s well understood,
The good are half bad and the bad are half good.
Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man’s wealth,
You must first know the state of his conscience and health.
Not the humble and proud, for in life’s little span,
Who puts on vain airs is not counted a man.
Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying years
Bring each man his laughter and each man his tears.
No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean,
Are the people who lift and the people who lean.
Wherever you go, you will find the earth’s masses
Are always divided in just these two classes.
And, oddly enough, you will find, too, I ween,
There’s only one lifter to twenty who lean.
In which class are you? Are you easing the load
Of overtaxed lifters, who toil down the road?
Or are you a leaner, who lets others share
Your portion of labor, and worry and care?
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Ella Wheeler Wilcox was born on 5 November 1850 in Johnstown, Rock County, Wisconsin, United States of America. She became a poet, a writer, and a journalist. Ella Wheeler Wilcox passed on at 68 years of age on 30 October 1919 in Short Beach, New Haven County, Connecticut, United States of America.
- Published on
Who Am I?
I am a little thing with a big meaning.
I help everyone.
I unlock doors, open hearts, and banish prejudice.
I create friendship and goodwill.
I inspire respect and admiration.
I violate no law.
I cost nothing.
Many have praised me; none have condemned me.
I am pleasing to those of high and low degree.
I am useful every moment.
Who am I?
I am courtesy.
by Author Unknown
I am a little thing with a big meaning.
I help everyone.
I unlock doors, open hearts, and banish prejudice.
I create friendship and goodwill.
I inspire respect and admiration.
I violate no law.
I cost nothing.
Many have praised me; none have condemned me.
I am pleasing to those of high and low degree.
I am useful every moment.
Who am I?
I am courtesy.
by Author Unknown
- Published on
The Ten Commandments of How to Get Along with People
1. Keep skid chains on your tongue; always say less than you think. Cultivate a low, persuasive voice. How you say it counts more than what you say.
2. Make promises sparingly, and keep them faithfully, no matter what it costs.
3. Never let an opportunity pass to say a kind and encouraging word to or about somebody. Praise good work, regardless of who did it. If criticism is needed, criticize helpfully, never spitefully.
4. Be interested in others, their pursuits, their work, their homes, and families. Make merry with those who rejoice; with those who weep, mourn. Let everyone you meet, however humble, feel that you regard him as a person of importance.
5. Be cheerful. Don’t burden or depress those around you by dwelling on your minor aches and pains and small disappointments. Remember, everyone is carrying some kind of a load.
6. Keep an open mind. Discuss but don’t argue. It is a mark of a superior mind to be able to disagree without being disagreeable.
7. Let your virtues, if you have any, speak for themselves. Refuse to talk of another’s vices. Discourage gossip. It is a waste of valuable time and can be extremely destructive.
8. Be careful of another’s feelings. Wit and humor at the other person’s expense are rarely worth it and may hurt when least expected.
9. Pay no attention to ill-natured remarks about you. Remember, the person who carried the message may not be the most accurate reporter in the world. Simply live so that nobody will believe them. Disordered nerves and bad digestion are a common cause of backbiting.
10. Don’t be too anxious about the credit due you. Do your best, and be patient. Forget about yourself, and let others “remember.” Success is much sweeter that way.
by Ann Landers
Ann Landers is a pseudonym of Esther Pauline Friedman ‘Eppie’ Lederer, who was born on 4 July 1918 in Sioux City, Iowa, United States of America, as an identical twin of Pauline Esther ‘Popo’ Phillips, also known by the pseudonym Abigail Van Buren, and writer of the column “Dear Abby.” Both sisters became advice columnists and writers. Ann Landers is known for the advice she gave to people in her column that appeared in newspapers across the country. She covered a wide range of topics, from relationship problems to everyday annoyances. Esther Pauline Friedman ‘Eppie’ Lederer passed on at 83 years on 22 June 2002 in Chicago, Illinois, United States of America.
2. Make promises sparingly, and keep them faithfully, no matter what it costs.
3. Never let an opportunity pass to say a kind and encouraging word to or about somebody. Praise good work, regardless of who did it. If criticism is needed, criticize helpfully, never spitefully.
4. Be interested in others, their pursuits, their work, their homes, and families. Make merry with those who rejoice; with those who weep, mourn. Let everyone you meet, however humble, feel that you regard him as a person of importance.
5. Be cheerful. Don’t burden or depress those around you by dwelling on your minor aches and pains and small disappointments. Remember, everyone is carrying some kind of a load.
6. Keep an open mind. Discuss but don’t argue. It is a mark of a superior mind to be able to disagree without being disagreeable.
7. Let your virtues, if you have any, speak for themselves. Refuse to talk of another’s vices. Discourage gossip. It is a waste of valuable time and can be extremely destructive.
8. Be careful of another’s feelings. Wit and humor at the other person’s expense are rarely worth it and may hurt when least expected.
9. Pay no attention to ill-natured remarks about you. Remember, the person who carried the message may not be the most accurate reporter in the world. Simply live so that nobody will believe them. Disordered nerves and bad digestion are a common cause of backbiting.
10. Don’t be too anxious about the credit due you. Do your best, and be patient. Forget about yourself, and let others “remember.” Success is much sweeter that way.
by Ann Landers
Ann Landers is a pseudonym of Esther Pauline Friedman ‘Eppie’ Lederer, who was born on 4 July 1918 in Sioux City, Iowa, United States of America, as an identical twin of Pauline Esther ‘Popo’ Phillips, also known by the pseudonym Abigail Van Buren, and writer of the column “Dear Abby.” Both sisters became advice columnists and writers. Ann Landers is known for the advice she gave to people in her column that appeared in newspapers across the country. She covered a wide range of topics, from relationship problems to everyday annoyances. Esther Pauline Friedman ‘Eppie’ Lederer passed on at 83 years on 22 June 2002 in Chicago, Illinois, United States of America.
- Published on
Let It Pass
Be not swift to take offense,
Let it pass!
Anger is a foe to sense,
Let it pass!
Brood not darkly o’er a wrong,
Which will disappear ere long;
Rather sing this cheery song,
Let it pass!
Echo not an angry word,
Let it pass!
Think how often you have erred,
Let it pass!
Since our joys must pass away.
Like the dewdrops on the spray,
Wherefore should our sorrow stay?
Let it pass!
If for good you suffer ill.
Let it pass!
O, be kind and gentle still,
Let it pass!
Time at last makes all things straight:
Let us not resent, but wait,
And our triumph shall be great:
Let it pass!
by Author Unknown
Be not swift to take offense,
Let it pass!
Anger is a foe to sense,
Let it pass!
Brood not darkly o’er a wrong,
Which will disappear ere long;
Rather sing this cheery song,
Let it pass!
Echo not an angry word,
Let it pass!
Think how often you have erred,
Let it pass!
Since our joys must pass away.
Like the dewdrops on the spray,
Wherefore should our sorrow stay?
Let it pass!
If for good you suffer ill.
Let it pass!
O, be kind and gentle still,
Let it pass!
Time at last makes all things straight:
Let us not resent, but wait,
And our triumph shall be great:
Let it pass!
by Author Unknown
- Published on
Contented John
One honest John Tomkins, a hedger and ditcher,
Although he was poor, did not want to be richer;
For all such vain wishes in him were prevented
By a fortunate habit of being contented.
Though cold was the weather, or dear was the food,
John never was found in a murmuring mood;
For this he was constantly heard to declare, -
What he could not prevent he would cheerfully bear.
“For why should I grumble and murmur?” he said;
“If I cannot get meat, I can surely get bread;
And, though fretting may make my calamities deeper,
It can never cause bread and cheese to be cheaper.”
If John was afflicted with sickness or pain,
He wished himself better, but did not complain,
Nor lie down and fret in despondence and sorrow,
But said that he hoped to be better to-morrow.
If any one wronged him or treated him ill,
Why, John was good-natured and sociable still;
For he said that revenging the injury done
Would be making two rogues when there need be but one,
And thus honest John, though his station was humble,
Passed through this sad world without even a grumble;
And I wish that some folks, who are greater and richer,
Would copy John Tomkins, the hedger and ditcher.
By Jane Taylor
Jane Taylor was born on 23 September 1783 in London, England, as one among an extensive literary family. She became an essayist, a playwright, a short story writer, a novelist and a poet. Jane Taylor worked as an editor and writer for “Youth’s Magazine.” She is known as the author of the song, “The Star,” also known as “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” (1806), and the poem, “The Violet,” among other works. Jane Taylor passed on at 40 years of age on 13 April 1824.
One honest John Tomkins, a hedger and ditcher,
Although he was poor, did not want to be richer;
For all such vain wishes in him were prevented
By a fortunate habit of being contented.
Though cold was the weather, or dear was the food,
John never was found in a murmuring mood;
For this he was constantly heard to declare, -
What he could not prevent he would cheerfully bear.
“For why should I grumble and murmur?” he said;
“If I cannot get meat, I can surely get bread;
And, though fretting may make my calamities deeper,
It can never cause bread and cheese to be cheaper.”
If John was afflicted with sickness or pain,
He wished himself better, but did not complain,
Nor lie down and fret in despondence and sorrow,
But said that he hoped to be better to-morrow.
If any one wronged him or treated him ill,
Why, John was good-natured and sociable still;
For he said that revenging the injury done
Would be making two rogues when there need be but one,
And thus honest John, though his station was humble,
Passed through this sad world without even a grumble;
And I wish that some folks, who are greater and richer,
Would copy John Tomkins, the hedger and ditcher.
By Jane Taylor
Jane Taylor was born on 23 September 1783 in London, England, as one among an extensive literary family. She became an essayist, a playwright, a short story writer, a novelist and a poet. Jane Taylor worked as an editor and writer for “Youth’s Magazine.” She is known as the author of the song, “The Star,” also known as “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” (1806), and the poem, “The Violet,” among other works. Jane Taylor passed on at 40 years of age on 13 April 1824.
- Published on
Credo
Mix a little shake of laughter in the doings of the day,
Scatter golden bits of sunshine as you plod along the way,
Stop to cheer a fellow human that’s a bit worse off than you -
Help him climb the pesky ladder that you find so hard to do;
Show by every daily motive, every thought and every deed -
You are one that folks can turn to when they find themselves in need;
Just forget the rugged places - make believe they’re slick and smooth;
When you spot the troubled faces, pull a grin and try to soothe;
Life’s a game - a mighty short one - play it gamely while you can -
Let the score book show the record that you measured up a Man!
Pretty pomes and marble towers won’t avail you very much,
When you’ve passed - unless you’ve helped to lighten heavy loads and
such;
Better far to have your neighbors say you were a cheerful chap,
Always kind and always helpful - if you’re that, you’ll leave a gap;
You may scatter filthy lucre to your merry heart’s content,
And forgotten be much sooner than some good-souled homeless gent;
Chances are that in the making of your sordid pile of cash,
In your handclasps you were faking, though you did show pep and dash;
Never mind about the fortune you made up your mind to pile -
But just live the Golden Rule, lad, and your life will be worth while.
by Roy Neal
Mix a little shake of laughter in the doings of the day,
Scatter golden bits of sunshine as you plod along the way,
Stop to cheer a fellow human that’s a bit worse off than you -
Help him climb the pesky ladder that you find so hard to do;
Show by every daily motive, every thought and every deed -
You are one that folks can turn to when they find themselves in need;
Just forget the rugged places - make believe they’re slick and smooth;
When you spot the troubled faces, pull a grin and try to soothe;
Life’s a game - a mighty short one - play it gamely while you can -
Let the score book show the record that you measured up a Man!
Pretty pomes and marble towers won’t avail you very much,
When you’ve passed - unless you’ve helped to lighten heavy loads and
such;
Better far to have your neighbors say you were a cheerful chap,
Always kind and always helpful - if you’re that, you’ll leave a gap;
You may scatter filthy lucre to your merry heart’s content,
And forgotten be much sooner than some good-souled homeless gent;
Chances are that in the making of your sordid pile of cash,
In your handclasps you were faking, though you did show pep and dash;
Never mind about the fortune you made up your mind to pile -
But just live the Golden Rule, lad, and your life will be worth while.
by Roy Neal
- Published on
A Creed
Let me be a little kinder,
Let me be a little blinder
To the faults of those around me,
Let me praise a little more;
Let me be, when I am weary
Just a little bit more cheery,
Let me serve a little better
Those that I am striving for.
Let me be a little braver
When temptation bids me waver,
Let me strive a little harder
To be all that I should be;
Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker,
Let me think more of my neighbor
And a little less of me.
Let me be a little sweeter,
Make my life a bit completer
By doing what I should do
Every minute of the day;
Let me toil, without complaining,
Not a humble task disdaining,
Let me face the summons calmly
When death beckons me away.
by Edgar A. Guest (about 1909)
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
Let me be a little kinder,
Let me be a little blinder
To the faults of those around me,
Let me praise a little more;
Let me be, when I am weary
Just a little bit more cheery,
Let me serve a little better
Those that I am striving for.
Let me be a little braver
When temptation bids me waver,
Let me strive a little harder
To be all that I should be;
Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker,
Let me think more of my neighbor
And a little less of me.
Let me be a little sweeter,
Make my life a bit completer
By doing what I should do
Every minute of the day;
Let me toil, without complaining,
Not a humble task disdaining,
Let me face the summons calmly
When death beckons me away.
by Edgar A. Guest (about 1909)
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
- Published on
Table Manners
When Teddy Bears are brought to table
They do not clatter forks and knives;
They act as well as they are able,
And do so all their lives.
They do not tip back in their chairs,
Or leave the spoon within the cup,
Or crook a finger for fine airs;
They’re very well brought up.
They keep their mouths shut when they’re chewing,
Nor chew aloud, nor smack their lips;
They’re quite refined, whatever’s doing -
They drink not gulps, but sips.
They speak when they are spoken to;
Their elbows are not up, but down;
They say, “Yes, please,” and “I thank you,”
As if they lived in town.
by Oliver Marble
When Teddy Bears are brought to table
They do not clatter forks and knives;
They act as well as they are able,
And do so all their lives.
They do not tip back in their chairs,
Or leave the spoon within the cup,
Or crook a finger for fine airs;
They’re very well brought up.
They keep their mouths shut when they’re chewing,
Nor chew aloud, nor smack their lips;
They’re quite refined, whatever’s doing -
They drink not gulps, but sips.
They speak when they are spoken to;
Their elbows are not up, but down;
They say, “Yes, please,” and “I thank you,”
As if they lived in town.
by Oliver Marble
- Published on
Speak Gently
Speak gently! - it is better far
To rule by love than fear.
Speak gently - let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here!
Speak gently - love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And gently friendship’s accents flow -
Affection’s voice is kind.
Speak gently to the little child!
Its love be sure to gain!
Teach it in accents soft and mild -
It may not long remain.
Speak gently to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear:
Pass through this life as best they may,
‘Tis full of anxious care.
Speak gently to the aged one,
Grieve not the careworn heart;
The sands of life are nearly run,
Let such in peace depart.
Speak gently, kindly to the poor -
Let no harsh tone be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word.
Speak gently to the erring - know
They may have toil’d in vain;
Perchance unkindness made them so;
Oh, win them back again.
Speak gently: ’tis a little thing
Dropped in the heart’s deep well;
The good, the joy, which it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.
by Author Unknown
Speak gently! - it is better far
To rule by love than fear.
Speak gently - let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here!
Speak gently - love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And gently friendship’s accents flow -
Affection’s voice is kind.
Speak gently to the little child!
Its love be sure to gain!
Teach it in accents soft and mild -
It may not long remain.
Speak gently to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear:
Pass through this life as best they may,
‘Tis full of anxious care.
Speak gently to the aged one,
Grieve not the careworn heart;
The sands of life are nearly run,
Let such in peace depart.
Speak gently, kindly to the poor -
Let no harsh tone be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word.
Speak gently to the erring - know
They may have toil’d in vain;
Perchance unkindness made them so;
Oh, win them back again.
Speak gently: ’tis a little thing
Dropped in the heart’s deep well;
The good, the joy, which it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.
by Author Unknown
- Published on
A Beautiful Morning
There must be a beautiful morning somewhere
A dawn lit by justice and judgment is fair
A place where a helping hand is held out
An ear that will listen stands poised and devout
A place you can go when your heart needs attending
A place where a spirit gets healing and mending
A place where love’s fire burns bright day and night
And in from the cold you may warm by its light
There must be a brilliant evening somewhere
Where the sun finally sets on pain and despair
Where the coming of night is not filled with grief
And comforting sleep brings you joyful relief
A place where the sunset is apt to reflect
A day without malice, without disrespect
A place where the only tears shed, are for joy
And a heart is not battered and bounced like a toy
There must be a wonderful day somewhere
In a place filled with love and a great need to care
A place where the burdens of conflict are lifted
Where friendship is a skill and all people are gifted
Where daily are spoken the words that support
And every mistake is not met with retort
A place where the land has not soaked up the freedom
Where honor and truth are not swallowed by treason
A place where the children are not left alone
Where sisters and brothers may come to atone
Where homeless and helpless don’t cower in fright
Where the hearts and the minds of the world can unite
So you set on a journey to seek out this land
With compass and map and a vision so grand
To find peace and comfort in a world that’s so new
Where waters are crystal and skies are so blue
With showers that cleanse and winds that refresh
Where the spirit is fed and not just the flesh
But search as you may, what you’ll find to be true
That it cannot be found, until it’s found within you.
by Author Unknown
There must be a beautiful morning somewhere
A dawn lit by justice and judgment is fair
A place where a helping hand is held out
An ear that will listen stands poised and devout
A place you can go when your heart needs attending
A place where a spirit gets healing and mending
A place where love’s fire burns bright day and night
And in from the cold you may warm by its light
There must be a brilliant evening somewhere
Where the sun finally sets on pain and despair
Where the coming of night is not filled with grief
And comforting sleep brings you joyful relief
A place where the sunset is apt to reflect
A day without malice, without disrespect
A place where the only tears shed, are for joy
And a heart is not battered and bounced like a toy
There must be a wonderful day somewhere
In a place filled with love and a great need to care
A place where the burdens of conflict are lifted
Where friendship is a skill and all people are gifted
Where daily are spoken the words that support
And every mistake is not met with retort
A place where the land has not soaked up the freedom
Where honor and truth are not swallowed by treason
A place where the children are not left alone
Where sisters and brothers may come to atone
Where homeless and helpless don’t cower in fright
Where the hearts and the minds of the world can unite
So you set on a journey to seek out this land
With compass and map and a vision so grand
To find peace and comfort in a world that’s so new
Where waters are crystal and skies are so blue
With showers that cleanse and winds that refresh
Where the spirit is fed and not just the flesh
But search as you may, what you’ll find to be true
That it cannot be found, until it’s found within you.
by Author Unknown
