For What You Have
I have known Harold Abbott for years. He lives at 820 SouthMadison Avenue， Webb City， Missouri. He used to be my lecturemanager. One day he and I met in Kansas City and he drove medown to my farm at Belton， Missouri. During that drive， I askedhim how he kept from worrying； and he told me an inspiringstory that I shall never forget.
“I used to worry a lot，” he said， “but one spring day in 1934，I was walking down West Dougherty Street in Webb City whenI saw a sight that banished all my worries. It all happened in tenseconds， but during those ten seconds I learned more about howto live than I had learned in the previous ten years. For two yearsI had been running a grocery store in Webb City，” Harold Abbottsaid， as he told me the story. “I had not only lost all my savings，but I had incurred debts that took me seven years to pay back.
My grocery store had been closed the previous Saturday； andnow I was going to the Merchants and Miners Bank to borrowmoney so I could go to Kansas City to look for a job. I walked likea beaten man. I had lost all my fight and faith. Then suddenlyI saw coming down the street a man who had no legs. He wassitting on a little wooden platform equipped with wheels fromroller skates. He propelled himself along the street with a block ofwood in each hand. I met him just after he had crossed the streetand was starting to lift himself up a few inches over the kerb tothe sidewalk. As he tilted his little wooden platform to an angle， his eyes met mine. He greeted me with a grand smile. ‘Goodmorning， sir. It is a fine morning， isn’t it？’ he said with spirit. AsI stood looking at him， I realised how rich I was. I had two legs.
I could walk. I felt ashamed of my self-pity. I said to myself if hecan be happy， cheerful， and confident without legs， I certainly canwith legs. I could already feel my chest lifting. I had intended toask the Merchants and Miners Bank for only one hundred dollars.
But now I had courage to ask for two hundred. I had intended tosay that I wanted to go to Kansas City to try to get a job. But nowI announced confidently that I wanted to go to Kansas City to geta job. I got the loan； and I got the job.
“I now have the following words pasted on my bathroommirror， and I read them every morning as I shave：
I had the blues because I had no shoes，
Until upon the street， I met a man who had no feet.
I once asked Eddie Rickenbacker what was the biggest lessonhe had learned from drifting about with his companions in liferafts for twenty-one days， hopelessly lost in the Pacific. ”Thebiggest lesson I learned from that experience，” he said， “was thatif you have all the fresh water you want to drink and all the foodyou want to eat， you ought never to complain about anything.”
Time ran an article about a sergeant who had been woundedon Guadalcanal. Hit in the throat by a shell fragment， thissergeant had had seven blood transfusions. Writing a note tohis doctor， he asked： “Will I live？” The doctor replied： “Yes.” Hewrote another note， asking：“Will I be able to talk？” Again theanswer was yes. He then wrote another note， saying： “Then whatin hell am I worrying about？”
Why don’t you stop right now and ask yourself： “What in the hellam I worrying about？” You will probably find that it is comparativelyunimportant and insignificant.
About ninety percent of the things in our lives are right andabout ten percent are wrong. If we want to be happy， all we haveto do is to concentrate on the ninety per cent that are right andignore the ten percent that are wrong. If we want to be worried andbitter and have stomach ulcers， all we have to do is to concentrateon the ten percent that are wrong and ignore the ninety per centthat are glorious.
The words “Think and Thank” are inscribed in many of theCromwellian churches of England. These words ought to beinscribed in our hearts， too： “Think and Thank”. Think of allwe have to be grateful for， and thank God for all our boons andbounties. Jonathan Swift， author of Gulliver’s Travels， was themost devastating pessimist in English literature. He was sosorry that he had been born that he wore black and fasted on hisbirthdays； yet， in his despair， this supreme pessimist of Englishliterature praised the great health-giving powers of cheerfulnessand happiness. “The best doctors in the world，” he declared， “areDoctor Diet， Doctor Quiet， and Doctor Merryman.”
You and I may have the services of “Doctor Merryman” free everyhour of the day by keeping our attention fixed on all the incredibleriches we possess—riches exceeding by far the fabled treasures ofAli Baba. Would you sell both your eyes for a billion dollars？ Whatwould you take for your two legs？ Your hands？ Your hearing？ Yourchildren？ Your family？ Add up your assets， and you will find thatyou won’t sell what you have for all the gold ever amassed by theRockefellers， the Fords and the Morgans combined.
But do we appreciate all this？ Ah， no. As Schopenhauer said：
“We seldom think of what we have but always of what we lack.”
Yes， the tendency to “seldom think of what we have but alwaysof what we lack” is the greatest tragedy on earth. It has probablycaused more misery than all the wars and diseases in history.
It caused John Palmer to turn “from a regular guy into an oldgrouch”， and almost wrecked his home. I know because he toldme so.
Mr. Palmer lives at 30， 19th Avenue， Paterson， New Jersey.