I'm already a personable person. I always try to smile and get to

Hear the words of Matt Riddle, a warrior in the arena, who yet speaks of gentleness and connection: “I’m already a personable person. I always try to smile and get to know somebody and say hello—even when people are trying not to talk to me.” In this simple confession lies a deep river of wisdom. For it reminds us that true strength is not only found in combat or in contests, but in the courage to reach out with kindness when the world withdraws.

The origin of these words springs from the ancient truth that fellowship is the foundation of human life. Long before kingdoms were built or cities were raised, survival itself depended on the willingness of one to approach another with a greeting, with an open hand, with a word of peace. To say hello, to offer a smile, was to signal safety, to bridge suspicion, to turn a stranger into a friend. Riddle’s teaching echoes this: even when others hide behind silence, the brave spirit reaches across the void with warmth.

The ancients, too, knew this virtue. Recall the story of Abraham, who welcomed three strangers into his tent, not knowing they were angels. His greeting, his food, his fellowship, became the channel through which divine promise flowed. Had he turned away in coldness, the blessing might have passed him by. So it is with us: a simple smile, a word of greeting, may open doors to gifts we cannot yet see.

History gives us another example in the figure of Desmond Tutu, who in South Africa’s darkest hours walked among friend and foe alike, greeting each with laughter, with warmth, with a radiance that disarmed hatred. Even when people sought to harden themselves, to close their lips and avert their eyes, his joy was irresistible. His personable nature became a weapon greater than violence, and through it he became a healer of nations.

Riddle’s words also speak to perseverance in love. It is easy to smile at those who welcome you, easy to greet those who are eager to greet you back. But when others withdraw, when they avoid your eyes, when they build walls of indifference—that is when kindness becomes heroic. To keep saying hello, to keep offering warmth, is to declare that bitterness will not have the last word, that your spirit cannot be turned aside by coldness.

The meaning of this teaching is clear: do not allow the silence of others to harden your own heart. The world is full of people wounded by rejection, afraid of trust, weary of connection. But your smile, your greeting, your persistence in kindness may be the very light that breaks through their shadows. To give of yourself, even when unwelcome, is to plant seeds that may one day bear fruit in ways unseen.

Therefore, beloved, let this be your practice: be bold in kindness. Offer the smile, extend the greeting, speak the word of welcome even in the face of silence. Do not measure your warmth by the response you receive, but by the truth you live. For in the end, as Riddle teaches, it is better to be remembered as the one who always sought connection than as the one who guarded his heart with pride. And when your days are counted, it will be said of you that you were truly personable—a soul who smiled, greeted, and brought humanity into every place you walked.