Winston Churchill, known for his bulldog tenacity and stirring oratory, is regarded as one of Britain’s greatest heroes and statesmen. But despite his achievements in the affairs of nations, Churchill’s more personal interactions showed signs of the strains of his heavy responsibilities.
In those desperate days of World War II, Churchill’s wife, Clementine, wrote him this loving reproof: “My Darling,” her note began, “I hope you will forgive me if I tell you something I feel you ought to know. One of the men in your entourage (a devoted friend) has been to me and told me that there is a danger of your being generally disliked by your colleagues and subordinates because of your rough, sarcastic and overbearing manner.”
She continued: “I must confess that I have noticed a deterioration in your manner; and you are not as kind as you used to be. . . . I cannot bear that those who serve the Country and yourself should not love you as well as admire and respect you—Besides, you won’t get the best results by irascibility and rudeness.” She signed her letter, “your loving devoted and watchful Clemmie.”1
Though the consequences are less dramatic, we, like Winston Churchill, are called upon daily to balance pressures and people. How successful are we? Do we set aside selfish instincts to favor the needs of others? Do we lead with love and kindness rather than coercion and criticism? Despite the daily pressures we face, trust, courtesy, and good manners can be a consistent part of the simple routines of our lives.
Perhaps the way we treat others won’t have world-changing effects, but no kind word or loving deed is without consequences—some of them farther reaching than we may realize. In the words of a 19th-century hymn, “There is no end to virtue; . . . there is no end to love.”2
Program #4027
1 In Neal A. Maxwell, That Ye May Believe (1992), 77–78.
2 “If You Could Hie to Kolob,” Hymns, no. 284.