Kind words are the music of the world. They have a power which

Hear, O seeker of wisdom, the words of Frederick William Faber, who declared: “Kind words are the music of the world. They have a power which seems to be beyond natural causes, as if they were some angel's song, which had lost its way and come on Earth, and sang on undyingly, smiting the hearts of men with sweetest wounds, and putting for the while an angel's nature into us.” These words rise like incense, lifting the soul to contemplate the unseen power of gentleness. For in them we learn that kindness, expressed in speech, is no small matter, but a force akin to the divine.

When Faber calls kind words the music of the world, he likens them to the most universal of arts. Just as music soothes the weary, uplifts the broken, and unites strangers, so do kind words bring harmony where there is discord, warmth where there is coldness, and hope where there is despair. Music transcends barriers of culture and language, and so too does kindness—it is understood by all, even the simplest heart, even the hardest soul.

He goes further, saying that kind words seem to carry a power beyond natural causes. This is no mere flattery. How often has a single gentle phrase turned away wrath, comforted sorrow, or lifted the fallen? It is as if such words carry the fragrance of heaven, descending to earth by accident, yet blessing all who hear. Faber’s imagery of an angel’s song reminds us that kindness has a touch of eternity—it lingers long after it is spoken, echoing within hearts like a melody that will not fade.

History confirms this truth. Consider the life of Abraham Lincoln, who in the midst of civil war chose words of kindness and reconciliation in his Second Inaugural Address: “With malice toward none, with charity for all…” These words, spoken in a time of blood and bitterness, softened enemies and gave healing to a nation torn apart. They were not the thunder of command, but the gentleness of truth—and because of this, they endure, remembered like immortal music.

Kindness in words is not weakness, but strength of the highest kind. For any man may wound with harshness, but only the wise can heal with gentleness. As Faber says, such words smite the hearts of men with sweetest wounds, piercing pride, melting hatred, awakening love. Unlike weapons that destroy, kind words create; unlike fire that consumes, they kindle light in darkness. For a brief moment, they give us an angel’s nature, lifting us beyond our selfishness into something higher, purer, nobler.

Therefore, O children of tomorrow, take this lesson: guard your tongue as you would a sacred instrument. Let it not play harsh notes carelessly, but let it sing melodies of kindness whenever possible. A simple word—“thank you,” “I believe in you,” “you are not alone”—may be remembered for years, shaping a life more deeply than you could ever imagine. Speak with reverence, for your words may carry the music of heaven itself.

Let your practice be this: each day, choose to offer at least one kind word deliberately. Speak encouragement to the weary, gratitude to the unnoticed, patience to the difficult, forgiveness to the erring. These cost nothing, yet they are treasures beyond price. Over time, your life will become like a song that others long to hear, a harmony in the great music of the world.

So remember always Faber’s words: kindness is no small act—it is the music of the world. When you speak with gentleness, you join the chorus of eternity, and for a moment, you place an angel’s heart within the soul of another. May your words be such songs, undying, healing, and true.