Within a few days, George Rona got a letter from this man, asking Rona to come to see
him. Rona went-and got a job. George Rona discovered for himself that "a soft answer
turneth away wrath".
We may not be saintly enough to love our enemies, but, for the sake of our own health
and happiness, let's at least forgive them and forget them. That is the smart thing to do.
"To be wronged or robbed," said Confucius, "is nothing unless you continue to
remember it." I once asked General Eisenhower's son, John, if his father ever nourished
resentments. "No," he replied, "Dad never wastes a minute thinking about people he
doesn't like."
There is an old saying that a man is a fool who can't be angry, but a man is wise who
won't be angry.
That was the policy of William J. Gaynor, former Mayor of New York. Bitterly denounced
by the yellow press, he was shot by a maniac and almost killed. As he lay in the
hospital, fighting for his life, he said: "Every night, I forgive everything and everybody." Is
that too idealistic? Too much sweetness and light? If so, let's turn for counsel to the
great German philosopher, Schopenhauer, author of Studies in Pessimism.
He regarded life as a futile and painful adventure. Gloom dripped from him as he
walked; yet out of the depths of his despair, Schopenhauer cried: "If possible, no
animosity should be felt for anyone."
I once asked Bernard Baruch-the man who was the trusted adviser to six Presidents:
Wilson, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, Roosevelt, and Truman-whether he was ever
disturbed by the attacks of his enemies. "No man can humiliate me or disturb me," he
replied. "I won't let him."
No one can humiliate or disturb you and me, either-unless we let him.
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words can never hurt me.
"Throughout the ages mankind has burned its candles before those Christlike individuals
who bore no malice against their enemies. I have often stood in the Jasper National
Park, in Canada, and gazed upon one of the most beautiful mountains in the Western
world-a mountain named in honour of Edith Cavell, the British nurse who went to her
death like a saint before a German firing squad on October 12, 1915. Her crime? She
had hidden and fed and nursed wounded French and English soldiers in her Belgian
home, and had helped them escape into Holland. As the English chaplain entered her
cell in the military prison in Brussels that October morning, to prepare her for death,
Edith Cavell uttered two sentences that have been preserved in bronze and granite: "I
realise that patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness toward
anyone." Four years later, her body was removed to England and memorial services
were held in Westminster Abbey. Today, a granite statue stands opposite the National
Portrait Gallery in London-a statue of one of England's immortals. "I realise that
patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness toward anyone."
One sure way to forgive and forget our enemies is to become absorbed in some cause
infinitely bigger than ourselves. Then the insults and the enmities we encounter won't
matter because we will be oblivious of everything but our cause. As an example, let's
take an intensely dramatic event that was about to take place in the pine woods of
Mississippi back in 1918. A lynching! Laurence Jones, a coloured teacher and preacher,