Words of Kindness, Source of Healing

Hi, this is Jim Daly. With Christmas just around the corner, you're probably making lists and checking them twice. As you're shopping around, let me share with you what you've already given. More than 130,000 marriages have been saved, and more than 2,500 families have initiated the process for adoption from foster care. Won't you add focus on the family to your list this year and give the gift of family? Call us with your generous year-end gift.

The number is 1-800, the letter A in the word family, or go to focusonthefamily.com. Today on Focus on the Family, Florence Littauer remembers a moment where she, as a speaker and teacher, got a great idea from her own audience at a local church. One little girl, and I'll never forget this little precious child, she stood up at the end of the row, she turned to all the people, and she said to them, what she means is... Amazing. Amazing how a little child shall interpret it so the adults can understand. And she said, what she means is that our words should be like a little silver box with a bow on top.

Well, that idea that our words should be like a gift is what we'll explore here on Focus on the Family with our president and author, Jim Daly. John, Christmas is just around the corner. I'm excited. I mean, I love Christmas.

It's almost here. And if you don't have all your presents purchased yet, we've got an idea for you. Give the gift of encouraging words, and we'll hear how to do that from Florence Littauer in a message that is a Focus on the Family classic. We've aired it several times since the early 90s, and it always gets a tremendous response. So today, it's our gift to you this Christmas. John, why don't you go ahead and start the unwrapping.

All right. It begins by just saying that Florence Littauer is a world-renowned speaker and author of more than 40 books. She's trained thousands of other people to become better communicators. She was married to her husband, Fred, for almost 50 years before he passed away in October of 2002.

As Jim said, this is a classic. Here's Florence Littauer on today's Focus on the Family. It was a couple of years ago that I was sitting in a church, and I was just one of the people in the congregation. And as I was sitting there, the pastor looked down at me, and he said, I see that Florence Littauer is in our audience this morning.

He said, I think it would be nice if we had her come up front and say a few words. So I got out of my seat and started up the aisle. As I started up the aisle, he looked down and he said, in fact, why don't we have Florence do the children's sermon this morning? And as I was coming, trying to figure out what I was going to do with this situation, I noticed that little children were coming out of all the aisles. I mean, he had little children coming up front. They were used to this.

They knew what happened every week. And all of the children came up front so that by the time I got to the front, there was this whole group of children in front of me. So as I looked at this little group, I thought to myself, what am I going to say to them? Well, I thought right off a verse. I'll teach them a verse. The verse that came to my mind immediately was a verse that we had used with our children. And the verse is Ephesians 4 29. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearer.

And they all looked wide-eyed. And they said like, oh, and I said, do you think you can understand that? Oh, they didn't know if they can understand that or not. Let's start it right at the beginning. It says, let no corrupt communication.

I said, now, what is corrupt communication? One little boy spoke up and he said, being nasty to your mother. So that's right. Don't do that. That's bad. And they all agreed that was bad to do. We shouldn't try that one. And we went on and they pulled out little things, what it meant, all kinds of bad things to say. Then I said, all right, that's what the verse says we are not to do.

Now let's look and see what should we do. So it says that we should let no corrupt communication proceed out of our mouths, but that which is good to the use of edifying. What does edifying mean?

Well, they look kind of wide about that. That's a big word. And then one of the boys said, build up.

I said, that's right. Build up. That our words are supposed to build up other people.

Then I went on to the next part of it. It says not only is it good to the use of edifying, but it is to minister grace. That's heavy stuff for little children, minister grace. So what does it mean, minister grace? Somebody taking a class somewhere that said that grace was God's unmerited favor. So this little child spoke up, God's unmerited favor. I was amazed at the size of this child that they knew that little phrase. They didn't have any idea what it meant, but they knew the words.

Somebody taught it to them. So I said, all right, that's good. That's wonderful. That that means that God has given us a favor. That's what grace is. So if I'm to give you grace, I'm to do you a favor.

So now how could I do you a favor? Well, we went from favor into present into gift. And then we came up with, yes, every word that comes out of my mouth should be like a present.

I should give you a present with my words. And I went on with that for a while with them. And as I did, one little girl and I'll never forget this little precious child, she stood up at the end of the row. She turned to all the people and she said to them, what she means is.

Amazing. Amazing how a little child shall interpret it so the adults can understand. And she said, what she means is that our words should be like a little silver box with a bow on top.

I looked at her and I said, that's right. And I'll never forget, even though I have no idea what that little child's name was, but I'll never forget her saying what she means is your words should be like a little silver box with a bow on top. Just the last year and a half that I've been working with this little concept off and on. It's made a difference to me.

It's made me measure my words in a different way. I began to think back and I said to myself, how have you spoken to your children? And as I thought about it, I realized that it was easy for me to give silver boxes to my daughter, Marita. She and I have always agreed on everything. It was not hard for me to give silver boxes to Lauren. She always did everything right.

Now, you might say, isn't that wonderful? She's had these two perfect children, but now I have an adopted son. Adopted son Fred is nothing like me at all. He and I have never had two thoughts in our entire lifetime that coordinated. When I would say to my daughters, run, they would run. I'd say to him, run, he'd stop.

He never seemed to want to do what I wanted him to do. He said to me, one day it amazes me that people pay money to hear you talk. That is not a silver box. And I began to think about what had I said to him. It's amazing how usually they're reflecting in a way what we're giving.

And if we're not giving out silver boxes, chances are they're not giving them back to us. So I thought about it. And I remembered one day when he came home and he said to me, Mrs. Johnson said that I have a charming personality.

Now, I don't know what you parents would have said, but before I even had a hesitation for a moment, I shot out with the comment, I'd sure like to see some of that charm around here. Now, when you put that in the context of the silver box, Mrs. Johnson had given Fred a silver box. And what had I done? I'd taken it away. I'd thrown away the silver box. It was gone. I'd wiped out everything Mrs. Johnson had said.

I, as the mother, had taken away the praise he'd received. I looked back at my childhood and I wondered, where did I get the affirmation? How did I go from being a child in three rooms behind a store without a ghost of a chance to amount to anything, remembering the lady that looked at my two brothers and me during the Depression as we stood in the store, and as she looked at us, she said to my mother, it's a shame there's no hope for those children because they appear so bright.

And that wasn't a silver box. And I remembered that. And I remember saying to myself when I heard that lady, and I can picture her today and where she stood and what she looked like. And I remember those words, words that knocked my blocks down. And I remember them and I remember saying to myself, Florence, you'll show that lady. And I worked to get there, but I thought back, I thought, how did you do it?

Who encouraged you? And as soon as I began to think about it, as you might begin to think about your childhood, I realized that even though my mother never gave me a lot of affirmation, and when I asked her why she didn't compliment me, she said, you never know when you're going to have to eat your words. Mother was always afraid she'd have to eat a few words.

She felt it was better not to say any than to have to eat them. So I thought about it. I thought, well, where did I get my affirmation? And I realized I had a father who was affirming. I had a father who was constantly giving us positive words, who was positive every single day, who was lifting people up, who during the Depression in our little store, people would come to our store just to hear my father's encouraging words. I remember back to my senior year in college and I came home at Christmas vacation.

And my father, who was 72 at that time, he was 20 years older than my mother. And as I came home, he said to me one day right after Christmas, Florence, come in the back room, I want to show you something. And we went in there that day and my father reached behind that piano.

You know those upright pianos that have all the little holes in them? My father reached behind the piano, brought out this little box, little cigar box, and he opened it up. And I looked at it and I said, what's that? He said, it's a box that I had and I hid it away. And he said, somehow today I felt like showing you this box. And I looked in there because I was a curious person. If I'd known there was a box tucked away, I would have been looking at it, but I didn't know it was there. And he showed it to me. It was full of clippings.

And I looked in there. They were newspaper clippings. And I said, what are these? He said, these are articles that I've written. I said, you can write? You see, my mother had always told me, your father didn't have any education. You've got to get education so you can do better than your father. My mother had fed me words like that. So when my father said he'd written something, I was dumbfounded. I didn't know my father was very bright.

And I looked at him. I said, you wrote these things? He said, yes. I said, why didn't you tell me you could write? It was almost like I deserved to know I had a smart father. Why hadn't he told me before? And I said, why didn't you tell me that? And he said, because your mother always said, because you don't have an education, you shouldn't try to write. What if you tried and it wasn't any good? We'd all be humiliated. My mother was always afraid we'd be humiliated.

So she never encouraged us to do anything, to take any risks or any chances. So my father, he said, I knew I could write. He said, I knew inside of me there was an ability to write. So he said, I would write when your mother was out. And I would write and I would send it into newspapers.

And I'd watch the newspaper until it came out. And then I'd cut it out and I put them all in this box. And he said, somehow today I wanted to give you the box. And I took that box and I looked through it. I couldn't believe all these things my father had written, important things. And as I got to the bottom, there was a letter in there from the United States Senate. I always have been interested in politics.

I've always been interested in personalities. And it was from Henry Cabot Lodge, Sr. And I opened up this letter and it was to my father. And I said, what did Henry Cabot Lodge write you for? And he said, well, I wrote him a letter telling him how he should run his campaign better, more efficiently and effectively next time. And he said, because of that, he wrote me back a letter and it was a personal letter, two pages typed. And it said, Dear Walter Chapman.

And then it went down. This idea was very good. I will implement that in my next campaign.

This idea I cannot use for this reason. And he enumerated everything, two pages answering my father's letter, sharing with him what he liked about what he said and how he thanked him and appreciated what he'd done for him. My father had written silver boxes to a senator and he'd replied.

I was so amazed. I put that back in the envelope, put all the clippings back in there. And I said to my father, let's let's put it back behind the piano. So we did.

We put it back behind the piano. And I said, but I'll know what's there. As we left that little room to go back into the store, my father put his hand on my shoulder and he looked at me. He said, Florence, I think I tried for something too big this time. And I said, what's that? He said, well, I wrote into our denominational magazine and I told them how they ought to change the way they chose the nominating committee for the National Convention. Now, see, my father didn't write trivia. He cared. He had the big picture. And he said, I wrote in and told them how they should do it differently, said good suggestions.

And he said, it's been three months now and they haven't published it yet. And then he looked at me again and he said, Florence, I guess I've tried for something too big this time. Those were the last words my father ever said to me, because the next day my mother and he took the first day off they'd had in 20 years. I stayed home and took care of the store with my two brothers. My mother and father went into Boston at four o'clock in the afternoon, walking through the subway station in Park Street in Boston. My father dropped to the pavement. At the morning of the funeral, I was sitting in the store opening up the cards that had come. For those days, many cards had come because, you see, everyone loved my father because he gave them encouraging words. And as I opened up these cards of sympathy from all the people that came into our store, I noticed the magazine, our denominational magazine. I never would have looked at it at such a time, except my father told me. I opened up that magazine and looked through it and inside there was my father's article for more democracy.

Walter Chapman. It came the day of the funeral. I'm so grateful today that my father showed me that box because, you see, I have those clippings and I have framed on my wall at home. I have the article from that magazine and a picture of my father. And I also have the letter from Henry Cabot Lodge, Sr. And I went back to Boston and I got a picture of him. And I have Henry Cabot Lodge and his letter and my father and his article. And I have those framed on the wall in my study so that every day as I pass by, I'll remember the value of an encouraging word.

Because, you see, my father had a box of broken dreams, things he could have been if only someone had encouraged him. This is Focus on the Family, and we're hearing words of wisdom from author and speaker Florence Littauer. And I'll encourage you to stay tuned because she has more fascinating stories to share. I did want to mention that you can hear the program and find details about a CD of this presentation and Florence's book, Silver Boxes, at focusonthefamily.com slash radio. Let's continue now with Florence Littauer on Focus on the Family. One time I sat down with my husband's mother.

We'd never had anything much to say to each other. She seemed to be a superior being. She seemed to be above everybody else.

She was elegant and beautiful. Said the right things. Did the right things.

Went home. Knew how to pour tea out of silver pots. All the things I never learned. I looked at her with envy all my life. I was afraid of her because she was so put together.

Because she knew how to do everything with such style and flair and I wanted so much to do that. So I never really had a one-to-one conversation with her until this one night just a number of years ago. When I sat with her in her living room and I didn't know what to say to her and I asked one of those trite questions. I said, Mother, what was it like when you were young? You know you're getting older when people ask you that. People have started asking me that.

My grandchildren. Grandma, what was it like when you were young? They think I knew Abraham Lincoln personally. So I asked my husband's mother, what was it like when you were young? Not knowing what I'd get for an answer and she said, oh. Immediately she said, oh, I remember when I was in college I had this boyfriend and I was so in love with him we were going to get married. She went on telling me about this and I looked at her wide-eyed. I'd never thought of my mother-in-law having a boyfriend somehow.

It just didn't seem to make sense. And as I looked at her and so I said to her, well, tell me about it, Mother. And she told me that she and he were going to get married.

And when they graduated from college and she graduated from Cornell when she was 19. And she said, when we graduated from college we went two separate directions for the summer. He was going to call me in the fall and we were going to get married. I said, well, what happened? She says, well, when the fall came he never called me. She says, he never called.

I looked at her. I said, you mean he never called you? She says, he never called. I never heard from him again. I said, well, what did you do? She says, well, I cried a lot.

Tears came down her cheeks. I'd never seen my mother-in-law relaxed. I'd never seen her real. And you may have some person that you deal with that you know is not real. You've never really gotten in there behind who they appear to be. Behind the wall they've built around themselves for protection.

I'd never noticed it or realized that was what it was. But as I talked to her she cried and she said, he never called me. My mother didn't like him anyway because he didn't come from a rich enough family. And her mother's theory always was you can marry and fall in love with a rich man as well as a poor man.

That was her family motto. She said, my mother didn't like him anyway. She said, after a while my mother introduced me to Fred Littauer. And she said, I married him on the rebound. And then she looked at me and she said, I never was in love with him.

This is Fred's father. And I looked at her and I said, you weren't? She said, no, I did the right things.

I played my role. And she said, I had the five children. And I was the good wife. And as she said this she is crying. And she said, but I never was in love with him. What did that make me feel about my mother-in-law that I'd been judgmental and negative about? That I thought this is a cold lady?

I never knew she'd had a problem like that before. And I looked at her with a different feeling. And then she said, but that's not the end. She said, a couple of years ago I went to a party.

She's in her 70s then. She said, I went to this party. She said, I looked across the room and there was this man standing there. And she said, I looked at him and she said, he looked like that young man that I'd been so in love with. She said, I walked across the room to get a view so I could look at him. And she said, when I got near him he turned and he looked at me and he said, you are Marita. And she said, I looked up at him and said, you're John. And she said, I started to talk with him.

And I looked at him and I said, would you answer me one question? Why did you never call? She said, he looked at me and he said, oh, I called many times. And each time I got your mother, and each time your mother said, she doesn't love you. She doesn't want to hear from you again. Please don't call. And he said, the last time I called your mother said, she's engaged to marry someone else.

Don't ever call again. She looked up at me and she said, in tears, my mother's words ruined my life. What a different feeling I had about my mother-in-law that day. How bad I felt for the judgment that I had put upon that lady in years past. How aloof I'd felt she was. How cold.

How artificial. And all the time she was hiding a broken heart. I said to her, mother, what would you have been if you could have been anything you wanted to be in your life? She said, oh, I would have been an opera singer. I said, an opera singer? I didn't even know you could sing? She said, that's because I've never sung since I got out of college. I said, did you sing before? She said, I majored in music.

I'd never known that. Of course, I'd never asked her. She said, I majored in music.

And she said, I wanted to be an opera star. I said, why didn't you go and do it? She said, because my mother said, there's no money in that. You'll never make it. You don't have enough talent. Come into the family business and that way you'll be secure.

That way you'll have money. And she said, so I gave up singing. And she said, but inside I've always wanted to be an opera singer. I never knew that about her.

I didn't know she had any hidden desires. And then she got up from the chair and she went down the hall. She came back with a box.

A big suit box. She opened up the box. She pulled out some pictures. And in it was this picture, she said, I want you to see this picture. She said, this is a stage set. She said, because I want you to know that I did once have the lead in an opera.

She says, it was my senior year in college. She says, here I am right here in the center. She said, I'm that one in the wing chair. And she said, these are all the cast around me. She said, I had the lead in the opera. Now she gave it to me. She said, here, you take this picture.

Your daughter's named after me. Give this to Marita. I want her to have it. I want her to know that her grandmother could have been something if she'd ever had the chance. If she'd ever had an encouraging word.

If someone had given her a silver box. Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, many of us die with the music still in us. Fred's mother died with the music still in her. My father died with the music still in him. Each one of them had a box of broken dreams. A box of clippings, a box of pictures, memories of what they'd done that no one knew about, that had never become fulfilled.

Both of them died with the music still in them. During Fred's mother's latter years, when Fred and I went to visit her, her mind had totally left her. She could not communicate. She couldn't say a word. We had no idea whether she could hear what we were saying or not, whether she understood anything. She was unable to articulate a word. I asked the nurse one day when I was down visiting her in Miami here in Florida, and I said, does mother ever talk?

She said, no, she never says a word. And then she looked at me, she said, but that's the strangest thing, that every once in a while she'll stand up and she'll sing opera. Oh, isn't it amazing what's still in our minds?

Many times our minds have forgotten what our heart still remembers. Her heart still wanted to be an opera singer. And the last night before she died, she stood up at the dinner table and the nurse told us that she stood there and she sang opera. And she said, when she'd finished, I clapped for her, and she held her hands and she bowed and she bowed. You see, the opera was still in her. And she said, when I went in the next morning, she was asleep with her hands like this and a smile on her face.

She died with the music still in her. In the Song of Solomon it says, yes, the winter has passed. The rains are over and done.

The flowers appear on the earth. The season of singing has come. Is there someone at home waiting for you to give them a season of singing? Is there someone there who is just waiting for a silver box, who is waiting for a word of encouragement from you? Yes, there may be somebody you know who has a song waiting to be sung, perhaps who has a race waiting to be rung, maybe a piece waiting to be played, perhaps a scene waiting to be staged, a tale waiting to be told, or a book waiting to be sold, a rhyme waiting to be read, or a speech waiting to be said. If you know such a person, don't let them die with the music still in them.

On this Focus on the Family radio program, it's been such a pleasure to hear from Florence Littauer. Jim, what a good reminder to reach out and spend some time encouraging those around you. Well, it really was, John, and I think that's an excellent way to bless others during this Christmas season, and it would make a great resolution for the New Year.

There's no reason to do it just around Christmas. The Bible talks a lot about the power of our words, especially in the book of Proverbs. Let me just give you a few verses. Proverbs 12 18. Rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Proverbs 15 2. The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouths of the fools pour out folly. Proverbs 18 21.

Death and life are in the power of the tongue. I think it would be a good idea to write down one of those verses and post it somewhere in your house where you'll see it often. Put it on your mirror as a reminder to use encouraging words rather than critical ones, and I'm guilty of that.

I can be pretty cutting with my humor and all. We'll post those three verses online in case you want to use them in that way. That's a great idea, Jim, and it's really, I'm thinking of being a parent here. It's pretty effective to post those kinds of verses around for our children, too. They need to know that their words have a powerful impact on those around them. It's the best way to teach a child, I think. You know, last time we aired this message, one listener said, this was a powerful message, brought tears to my eyes, repentance to my heart, and I hope it did the same for you.

What a great statement from that listener. And if you have any encouragement to share with us, I hope you'll do it. It's a way that we know that you're listening and communicating. We would love to hear from you through Facebook or phone calls and letters, and if I could ask you to consider making a donation when you get in touch with us, that would really help us out right now. Here at the end of the year, that's when a majority of the budget comes in for Focus on the Family. So by helping us right now, you're really helping us for the rest of the year. So why not make your Christmas memorable by giving generously? Help us give the gift of family to those who desperately need it. And let me say thank you if you've given already, and thank you to those who will give.

Bless you. And we are a nonprofit organization, so we do depend on those gifts, as you said, Jim, to continue the work here of reaching out with the love of Christ to families worldwide. Now, we've made it easy to donate. Just call us at 1-800-A-FAMILY or donate online at focusonthefamily.com slash radio.

And we have an exciting opportunity for you right now. Some generous friends have offered to match your gift dollar for dollar up to $2.3 million, and so your gift today will effectively be doubled so we can reach twice as many families in the months to come. By the way, if you'd like to share this message with a friend or a family member, ask for the CD of this broadcast or get the audio download. We also have Florence's book, Silver Boxes, The Gift of Encouragement, full of stories like you've heard today, and that'll be sure to be a great resource for you or perhaps to give as a gift to someone you know. And by the way, one woman who reviewed that book said, I keep a large silver box on my piano. It's a reminder that what I say to my children and husband should be encouraging, uplifting, and edifying. This will be my baby shower gift to every mom-to-be from now on. Well, that's a great idea, and we'll send a copy of that book, Silver Boxes, to you today when you make a generous donation to Focus on the Family. Our program was provided by Focus on the Family. And on behalf of Jim Daly and the entire team here, thanks for listening in. I'm John Fuller inviting you back tomorrow when we'll have some memories of Christmas past and once again turn our hearts toward home.