Beginning today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to

Hearken, children of the earth, to the words of Og Mandino, a man who spoke as if fire dwelt in his heart and wisdom poured from his tongue. He uttered this command: “Beginning today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness and understanding you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again.” These words are no mere counsel for courtesy; they are a trumpet call, a summons to live as if each soul you touch stands upon the brink of eternity.

In these lines we find the ancient truth: life is fragile, fleeting as the morning mist. Each face we encounter, each hand we clasp, may vanish before the sun returns. To treat others with coldness or neglect is to squander the sacred hour that destiny has granted. The saying bids us to live with eyes open, hearts aflame, and compassion unchained, for midnight draws near, and none know who shall pass into its shadow.

Consider the example of Abraham Lincoln, who, amidst the storm of war, bore himself with mercy even toward his enemies. When Union soldiers demanded vengeance upon Confederate prisoners, Lincoln reminded them: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?” He understood that harshness multiplies sorrow, but kindness sows peace that survives the grave. His gentle strength changed the course of a nation, proving that a single heart steeped in compassion can alter the destiny of millions.

Yet this teaching is not reserved for kings or conquerors. A humble woman in Calcutta, Mother Teresa, walked among the poorest of the poor, touching their wounds as though each body might not survive the night. She gave without expectation of return, offering the dying a dignity brighter than gold. In her presence, the forgotten felt seen, the untouchable felt embraced, and though she gained no earthly wealth, her life became a beacon of boundless radiance. Truly, as Mandino promised, her life “was never the same again.”

The wisdom of this command lies not in lofty thought but in daily practice. When you meet a stranger, imagine they stand at the edge of their final dusk. Would you withhold your smile? Would you deny them gentle words? When your friend falters, remember you may not see their face tomorrow. Would you not rather offer patience, forgiveness, and love, so that when the midnight bell tolls, you shall have no regret?

Let your heart grow vast enough to contain this truth: that every act of kindness is eternal. To live as if each encounter is the last is not to despair but to rise, to awaken, to pour forth love while time yet grants you breath. The ancients taught, “Memento mori” — remember you must die. Mandino renews this wisdom, teaching not only to remember our own death, but to live as if the death of others stands close at hand.

Therefore, O listener, take this path. Be swift to forgive, for anger is a chain that binds only the one who bears it. Speak kindly, for words may outlive the body. Serve generously, for your gift may be the last light a soul receives before departing. Love deeply, for love alone defies the grave.

And the lesson is this: If you live as though every person you meet may be gone by midnight, your own heart shall awaken to the eternal. Life will cease to be a routine of days and instead become a sacred pilgrimage of moments. You will walk among mortals as one who understands the divine, and in so doing, your life will indeed — as the prophet of hope promised — never be the same again.