The Lost Art of Graciousness

Coneflowers bloom in my backyard perennial garden.



Graciousness. Not a word we hear or use much any more.  What comes to your mind when you think of this word?  Old ladies with pearls, serving cups of tea?  Actually, I think of these words:  humility, generosity, authenticity, servanthood.

            I think the fact that we don’t use the word very much is a telltale sign: we don’t place much value on that trait anymore.  Do young kids today even know what it means?  Now I’m not talking about grace, or being graceful.  No, I’m talking about behavior on the part of one person toward another that speaks of humble generosity.  In our fast-food, self-serve world, we don’t talk about this kind of behavior anymore, or at least we don’t seem to expect it.  But because we all run on the instant-gratification fast track these days, maybe we need it now more than ever.

            The best way I can describe what I mean is to give examples.  These people stood out to me for their graciousness, perhaps because their manner seemed so old-fashioned.  Yet, it was refreshing.

            When I worked as a newspaper advisor on a college campus that was a 40-minute commute from my home, I would get finished late into the night on deadline day.  I had already arranged with one of the faculty members who lived near the college for her house to be my “storm home.”  I took her up on it several times.  Whenever a blizzard hit, she would let me sneak into her house late at night and I could crawl into the quilt-covered guest bed and then head home in the morning to make it back for my afternoon classes.  But this alone wasn’t what impressed me.  She would personally serve me breakfast in the morning.  I don’t mean a fancy one, but she would put my bread in the toaster, spread the butter and jam for me, and fix my coffee just the way I liked it, all as I sat at the table visiting with her.  When I have guests on a busy morning at my house, I just put some boxes of cereal out on the table with some bowls and spoons, and tell them the night before where the milk is in the refrigerator.  “Help yourself!” I would probably say as we head to bed, and I’d likely be out the door before they even woke up.

            I remember another person who helped my family out after we were stranded in a little western Kansas town.  Our car was totaled after a teenager plowed into the back of it, and this man not only rented us a car from his car lot so that we could continue our trip, but towed our car three hours to our home when we came back through as we rode along in the cab with him. He belonged to the Brethren Church, which in that area meant the men wore beards without mustaches, dressed plainly, as did the women in his family, who wore simple dresses and head coverings.  He talked with us about his beliefs on the trip down, but not in a preachy way, and we shared about our family and our life.  When he dropped us off at the auto shop, he touched both our arms gently and said “Blessings to both of you, Ann and Mike.”  It was such an authentic and sincere thing to say, that I never forgot it.

            Is graciousness a lost art in our society?  I hope not.  I wonder how I can be more gracious toward others.

For life is what you make it.  So make it good!