The sound of silence.

There are times in life when I wished I had said nothing rather than the comment or response I did make. I never said anything to ever be hurtful but there were times when that was the result.

In my younger days, I often ended up in hot water not because I intended to upset but because I had answered without giving due consideration to my answer. My mother had a habit of ticking us off if we did not respond when she spoke to us. Often she had made a statement and not asked a question and I thought no response was called for. In the end, I more than once said something I later regretted because I had spoken at all.

I am not sure which philosopher I was reading when he spoke of the wisdom of silence. He wrote, "Once on a railway journey, my father unintentionally perpetrated some slight infraction and was unmercifully bawled out by a minor train employee. I was young then and hotly told my father afterwards that he should have given the man a piece of his mind. My father smiled, "Oh," he said, "if a man like that can stand himself all his life, surely I can stand him for five minutes."

A lesson I often wished I had learned much sooner than it has taken me to and even now I forget.

Grace Coolidge, the wife of President Calvin Coolidge, tried to surprise her husband by having his portrait painted. When it was finished, she hung it in the library of the White House. 

Later the same morning the President happened to walk into the library accompanied by a senator. They stared at the picture together in silence. Finally, Coolidge commented quietly: "I think so too."

It takes a great deal of silent wisdom to make no comment about a painting or photograph of oneself or somebody close, but often silence is the greater good. 

I had a wonderful older friend who was an elder in one of my churches. I recall an incident that without saying much, said everything.

It had been a rather stormy board meeting and some very harsh things had been said. My friend, highly respected and unusually wise in his judgments, had said nothing throughout the proceedings. Suddenly one of the leaders in the argument turned to him: "You have not said a word. I am sure we would all like to hear your opinion on this matter." 

"I have discovered," replied the quiet one, "that there are many times when silence is an opinion."

Some very interesting words on this topic come from the Simon and Garfunkel. 

"Fools," said I, "you do not know, Silence like a cancer grows, hear my words that I might teach you. Take my arms that I might reach you. But my words, like silent raindrops, fell. And echoed in the wells of silence."

To end on a slightly lighter note a tale about a person I have a great feeling and empathy for and I hope you see why. 

A little fellow was waiting on a corner when a car stopped and a huge man got out. 

"Excuse me, please," the big man said, "but I'm a stwanger in town and I'm lost. Can you diwect me to Wolling Woad?" 

The little fellow looked at the big man nervously and said nothing.

"Are you deaf?" the big man wanted to know. "Can't you speak Engwish?" 

Still getting no answer, the big man walked over to a police officer. "Excuse me, please, officer, but can you tell me how to get to Wolling Woad?"

"Rolling Road? Why sure, you go down this street and turn right."

"Thank you vewy much," replied the muscleman as he went his way.

The officer watched him leave, and then went over to the little fellow. "What's the matter with you?" he asked. "Couldn't you tell him how to get to Rolling Road?"

"Howy smoke, officer, are you cwazy? The minute I twied to tell that big wascal how to get to Wolling Woad, he'd have town me wimb from wimb." 

Yep a man with a speech problem should often hold his silence. Have a marvellous day.