A good friend of mine was complaining about her son the other day. "Did you notice," she started, "how
he didn't wait for me to get my salad before he dove into his?"
True enough, the boy attacked his plate faster than a cat in the wild. Without manners, we're no more
than animals. Actually, that's not true. I've been watching and feeding a group of wild cats, and they show
unusual politeness toward each other. Even when food is scarce, they take turns, leaving at least a small part
for the next in line.
My mother educated her three children to have good manners all the time. We were made to feel very
uncomfortable as if we were sitting on pins and needles until we got used to saying please, thank you, pardon
me, and I'm sorry. And I have to say, while it was a painful learning experience, it was one of the most
valuable.
I can't tell you how often I sat with my friends, eating at their dinner tables, and their parents thought highly
of my good manners. While it was a little embarrassing, I knew even then that my mother's teachings were
paying off.
Many years later, when I was attending seminars across the country, my manners were quite useful.
While I regret that I haven't been a perfect example, I'm still working on it. I suppose, in this regard, my
mother lives on through me. I didn't have her beautiful singing voice or her green eyes, but she did make sure
I received one of her finest characteristics.