In handling troubles, I have taken as my motto the words of an old parrot that my father
used to tell me about. Father told me of a parrot that was kept in a cage hanging over
the doorway in a hunting club in Pennsylvania. As the members of the club passed
through the door, the parrot repeated over and over the only words he knew: "One at a
time, gentlemen, one at a time." Father taught me to handle my troubles that way: "One
at a time, gentlemen, one at a time." I have found that taking my troubles one at a time
has helped me to maintain calm and composure amidst pressing duties and unending
engagements. "One at a time, gentlemen, one at a time."
Here again, we have one of the basic principles in conquering worry: LIVE IN DAY-
TIGHT COMPARTMENTS. Why don't you turn back and read that chapter again?
I Now Look For The Green Light
By
Joseph M. Cotter
1534 Fargo Avenue, Chicago, Illinois
From the time I was a small boy, throughout the early stages of young manhood, and
during my adult life, I was a professional worrier. My worries were many and varied.
Some were real; most of them were imaginary. Upon rare occasions I would find myself
without anything to worry about-then I would worry for fear I might be overlooking
something.
Then, two years ago, I started out on a new way of living. This required making a self-
analysis of my faults-and a very few virtues-a "searching and fearless moral inventory"
of myself. This brought out clearly what was causing all this worry.
The fact was that I could not live for today alone. I was fretful of yesterday's mistakes
and fearful of the future.
I was told over and over that "today was the tomorrow I had worried about yesterday".
But it wouldn't work on me. I was advised to live on a twenty-four-hour programme. I
was told that today was the only day over which I had any control and that I should
make the most of my opportunities each day. I was told that if I did that, I would be so
busy I would have no time to worry about any other day-past or future. That advise was
logical, but somehow I found it hard to put these darned ideas to work for me.
Then like a shot from out of the dark, I found the answer- and where do you suppose I
found it? On a North-western Railroad platform at seven P.M. on May 31, 1945. It was
an important hour for me. That is why I remember it so clearly.
We were taking some friends to the train. They were leaving on The City of Los
Angeles, a streamliner, to return from a vacation. War was still on-crowds were heavy
that year. Instead of boarding the train with my wife, I wandered down the tracks
towards the front of the train. I stood looking at the big shiny engine for a minute.
Presently I looked down the track and saw a huge semaphore. An amber light was
showing. Immediately this light turned to a bright green. At that moment, the engineer
started clanging a bell; I heard the familiar "All aboard!" and, in a matter of seconds, that
huge streamliner began to move out of that station on its 2,300-mile trip.
My mind started spinning. Something was trying to make sense to me. I was
experiencing a miracle. Suddenly it dawned on me. The engineer had given me the