I should like, if I may, to share with you one of the most beautiful stories of my life. It is a story that confirms my sense of goodness as it should be in this otherwise complicated world. Whether we like it or not, the simple truth of the matter is that we reveal an awful lot about ourselves over time. Thus, consistency in character over time is revealing as anything can be about what we are really like.
I have had the pleasure of meeting and working with two young teenagers—Brian and Paul. They both graduated from high school this year. They are typical teenage males in that they are playful, full of energy, and masterfully spontaneous. Clearly, there is a very straightforward sense in which there is absolutely nothing more revealing of a teenager’s upbringing than the way in which he is spontaneous. You want to know what boundaries have been set in the home—set not just by word but by example—then watch two teenagers being playful and spontaneous.
A perfect illustration of this pertains to language. If profanity is commonplace in the home, then I can assure you that, as the night follows the day, two teenage males who are being playful and spontaneous will invariably resort to profanity, and lots of it, in order to express themselves.
Again, when parents in the home are tolerant of excuses for moral slothfulness, then playful and spontaneous behavior on the part of two teenage males will invariably cross over into inappropriate behavior.
I do not claim that Paul and Brian are perfect. But I do know that they are the beneficiaries of excellent upbringing in the home. And this shows in every conceivable way.
I met Brian first, when he was doing some work for his family business. I later met Paul who was also helping out. Our interaction was jump-started by the French language, as the boys were both studying French in high school; and French is my second language.
They delighted in the banter that passed between us, as I would make various remarks to them in French and they tried to respond in French. But along the way I noticed something much more important, namely the extent to which the boys very much enjoyed good clean fun. And Brian’s father very much noticed and liked that as well.
The parents of Paul and Brian trusted me; and trust from morally upstanding parents is about as affirming as things can get in interactions between mortals. There is all the difference in the world between parents who will take any opportunity not to have to attend to their children; and parents of enormous character who make it clear that they judge one to be worthy of their trust in interacting with their children. If there is anything that qualifies as a moral gift, surely a judgment of worthiness from upright parents in this regard is the moral equivalent of a gift of diamonds and rubies. It simply does not get any better than that.
And when genuine trust is engaged by genuine trust, the result is a good that is truly greater than the some of its parts. For there are ways of interacting and expressions of goodwill that are possible only when there is genuine trust on the part of both parties. Trust gives rise to options that distrust forecloses.
Here is an illustration of this point. For the very first time in my life I served as a tour guide in Paris for some friends. Who were those friends? You guessed it: Brian and Paul, along with a few of their family members. But trust and only trust made it possible for something like the following to happen. To the adults, I remarked: “Why don’t you folks go out to a very fancy restaurant, while the boy and I explore Paris”. I knew that the boys would be playful and spontaneous. But I also knew that they would never ever behave inappropriately. I would never have made the offer had I thought otherwise.
The parents, by contrast, knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would behave appropriately with respect to the boys. The very Paris trip would never have gotten off the ground had they thought otherwise.
The result was an extraordinarily rich evening for all involved that would never have happened were it not for the remarkable trust that prevailed between us all. The boys and I went out Puteaux to visit some close family friends of mine, and afterwards we viewed the sprawling grounds of La Defense. The guys loved it.
To this day, the Rougemont family asks me about Brian and Paul. And here too is a moment of trust. Although neither Brian nor Paul is Jewish, they were my guests. And the trust between me and the Rougemont family is so extraordinary that it is simply understood that I may bring to their home anyone from the states to whom I am giving a tour in Paris. That welcome was extended even to an Arabic friend of mine. Trust at is best.
It is a simple truth that some of the most beautiful moments in life are predicated upon trust. And trust, as with all matters of character, is not something that one can purchase when one needs it. Quite the contrary, there is nothing on the face of this earth that can stand in for a history of moral goodness—an untarnished record of trust.
In this ever so fast-paced world, it is this simple reality that way too many fail to grasp.
Trust is like a credit history. Either one has the appropriate history or one does not. In particular, sincere avowals today are no substitute for an excellent record of trustworthiness yesterday. No matter how quickly one can communicate; no matter how fast we can travel; no matter how fast technology permits us to alter things: It remains true that nothing on the face of this earth can change the fact that there can be no substitute for an excellent record of trustworthiness.
This is a moral lesson. But how might we teach it to children? Of course, we can always proclaim that nothing substitutes for a record of excellence. We can yell it. We can even through pots and pans as we yell. And whilst doing that we can sprinkle our yelling with threats here and there—just to underscore the point that we mean what we are saying.
Will this ensure that children learn the moral lesson that nothing substitutes for a record of excellence? Of course not. And the reason why is very simple. Neither yelling nor proclamations from the top of the highest mountain can take the place of being the beneficiary of a record of goodness on the part of another, one’s parents in particular.
For when we are the beneficiaries of a record of goodness, the result is an emotional configuration that cannot be wrought otherwise. Paul and Brian are the beneficiaries of such a record of goodness on the part of their parents. And it shows.
Oddly enough, I can bear witness to this in ways that their parents cannot. For you see, I have never had any authority over Brian and Paul. I have never held either the purse strings or the key ring to the car. I have had no leverage with them whatsoever. So their comportment around me is profoundly revealing of the emotional configuration wrought in their lives by their parents. For just as nothing is more indicative of an individual’s character than how the person behaves when no one is watching, what we have next in line is that nothing is more indicative of a child’s character than how that child behaves when her or his parents are not around.
Life is full of surprises in that we cannot always know from which direction a bit of confirmation will come.
To the parents of Brian and Paul, this alas is one of those moments. I am the most unlikely of all candidates to confirm the wonderful moral configuration that your parenting has wrought in your son: Brian in one case and Paul in the other. Why? Because I mattered to them when I did not have to matter at all. The house of moral decency is built upon this rock. Thus, the boys also know something very wonderful about themselves as well.
To Paul and Brian: As you each go on to pursue your perspective dreams, let me just say, having been the beneficiary of the moral excellence wrought in the life of each you and which you both exude so gracefully:
Thank You for the Memories