There were tears in her eyes when I entered the room many years ago. I knew she had been on the phone and I wondered who had made her cry. “Dad,” she asked, “am I a failure?”
“Are you?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Did you think you were one before the call?”
“No,” she said vehemently.
“Then you aren’t,” I said.
“But my friend felt I was.”
“Your friend actually said you were a failure?” I asked, a little surprised.
She said that she was praying for my success.”
“And you immediately thought of yourself a failure?”
“I guess I just felt discouraged,” she said and smiled
A story comes to my mind, and though I didn’t tell it to her (daughters don’t have the patience you my reader have) I’ll repeat it here.
It’s an old tale of Satan walking in the Street of Life, sulking in the shadows with his hunting dogs; the little imps of human weakness. A man, Albert, came walking down the street, cocky and confident, Satan turned to one of his imps, scowling with a bitter face, “Go get him for me!”
Quickly the imp crossed the street, silently and lightly hopped on to the man’s shoulder, in his ear he whispered, “You are discouraged.”
“No,” said the man, “I am not discouraged.”
“You are discouraged,” insisted the imp.
“I don’t think I am, “said the man a little uncertainly this time.
Louder and more decidedly, the little imp repeated, “I tell you, you are discouraged.” Albert dropped his head and murmured, “Well, I suppose I am..!”
The little imp came back proudly to Satan and told him, “I got my man!”
A pretty lady passed by, again old Satan said, “Get her for me!”
The proud little demon of discouragement, full of pride with his recent victory, repeated his tactics. The first time he said, “You are discouraged,” the young woman replied emphatically, “No, I’m not!”
The second time she replied with a smile and a toss of her pretty head, “I tell you I’m happy and anything but discouraged!” The third time she looked the imp in the eye and said, “You lie! I am not discouraged by anything at all!” and walked down the street with a bounce in her step and joy in her face.
The imp of discouragement returned to his master, crestfallen, “I couldn’t get her,” he said “three times I tried, and the third time, she called me a liar, now I feel discouraged..!”
Like I said, I didn’t tell this story to my daughter, but I think I will. And for you dear sir or pretty woman, young or old, there’s no need to feel discouraged; stare that imp thought in the face, call him a liar, and skip through life with a smile..!
Robert Clements is a newspaper columnist and author. He blogs at www.bobsbanter.com and can be reached at bobsbanter@gmail.com
