272 Words Is Enough

Did you know that the Gettysburg address was only 272 words? Abraham Lincoln could fit a rousing inspiring message that got an entire army to fight for what they believed in and to remind them of why they were fighting in the first place. Amazing, isn't it?

When I was twelve, I memorized the speech for my first debate. I had to pick a President's speech and I chose Lincoln's because I loved making paper impressions with pennies as a four-year-old and that had left a nice, indelible memory in my mind. I did not know what the speech was about at the time but I liked how dignified Lincoln appeared. My brother prepped me for it as I was quite shy at the time and usually had my head in a book. I remember I read the speech really fast and then said, "Can I go back to my book now?"

He told me, "But there's no feeling. You just rattle it off too fast." I thought at the time that it was an insult to the audience's intelligence to slow down. I could not understand why anyone would willingly be slow. Slow was torture. I loved the words. They were so perfect in and of themselves. What else did you need? My mind instantly drifted away to possibilities...I thought that was enough - more than enough. I had already recited the words aloud; the listener did not have to go and find the book and discover it. In a way, I felt sorry for them because they just lost out on the fun of discovery. My brother explained to me however that people all learn differently and that they would actually much prefer if I engaged and showed emotion. He told me I should care more about what people got out of what I was saying than just the words alone. I didn't like it at first but then it made sense to me.

Even today when I lapse into that habit sometimes and go super fast on sharing an idea, his words pop into my head and then I slow down. I usually see a glimmer of understanding on the listener's face and instantly, we both are more connected. We form a rapport. I wait for understanding. The other person shares their thoughts and feelings about what I just said before I share my next idea. It's just a simple thing to do, but a world of difference and really, as my brother taught me, "Your goal isn't just to say these words, it's to be heard."

So here's the 272-word Gettysburg address that Lincoln delivered with emotion, with understanding and with infinite patience. :)

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. 

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. 

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate -- we cannot consecrate -- we cannot hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

- President Abraham Lincoln
November 19, 1863

True Beauty

When I was around eight years old, I used to get a little annoyed at constantly hearing how beautiful my grandmother was. We've got a lot of attractive women in our family so I thought, Why does it matter? I wondered why she couldn't be like my friends' grandmothers who were obsessed with making cookies for them or being domestic. My grandmother was regal and dignified. She was also of a different era...

The thing is though my grandmother, my dad's mother, was exceptionally beautiful. It is my deepest regret that I did not run up to her and kiss her, love her and just hang out with her more and tell her how wonderful she was. She was very loving to me. She had a regal beauty. When I was eight, she was eighty years old but she looked like she was sixty at most. Her face was so perfect and her skin so smooth, fair, white and free of any wrinkles or blemishes. It was a perfect complexion and she had a glow about her. I always loved her eyes. They were light hazel brown but they looked so warm when she looked at you. Her smile though was stunning. It kind of stopped you in your tracks, especially if you hadn't seen her in a while or you were meeting her for the first time. I saw countless people stop and stare. She had perfect teeth and pink gums like many people do, but it was her smile that drew you in. She smiled widely and it was warm, welcoming and genuine.

The closest thing I can think of is like the autumn sunlight in Vermont in September the last few years lately where it just bathes you in a soft light. It's lovely and lights you up. You basked in her smile. You wanted more. :)

My grandmother sent me many gifts. She wrote me long letters way before I could read them fully. My dad also wrote me letters by hand, especially when he went on long trips to San Francisco. My brother would read them to me.

It was hard for my grandmother to write as years passed. She had arthritis and it went into her hands. A few of her slender, beautiful fingers became gnarled and you could see the blue and slightly red veins everywhere. She was embarrassed by it and looked so helpless at me sometimes when she had to use a walker. I imagine that was very difficult but she did it with dignity and she always smiled so brilliantly at everyone.

She could not bear it when my father died. He was her only son. She would tear up instantly at the mention of his name or even places he had been. Every time she would see my brother or me, her eyes would fill with tears and she would smile at us, open her arms and invite us to come and hug her, but there was such a sadness in her soft frame.

She gave me so many books to read over the years and plenty of beautiful, delicate soft purses, lots of cash to spend on anything I wanted, lovely jewelry, leather clutches and many things. She never said a harsh word to anyone. She was softness, beauty and majesty all rolled into one.

I regret very much not spending more time with her and not understanding better. I feel bad that I did not tell her how much I loved her. I miss her smile, her warmth and her gentle eyes. I miss her looking thoughtful and the friendliness she offered immediately to someone new like a happy child every single time without hesitation. When I think of her, I feel a warmth inside me like I am being hugged and I feel like I am loved so very much and part of a long line that is eternal and forever good.

I would gladly drop whatever I was doing today to spend time with her and just tell her how wonderful she was. She was also the kind of person that forgave you instantly and loved you completely.

My grandmother taught me what true beauty is, from the inside out.