Take time to be kind and to say 'thank you.'

Zig Ziglar, a teacher of hope and a herald of encouragement, once gave us a command wrapped in simplicity: “Take time to be kind and to say ‘thank you.’” Do not let the plainness of these words deceive you, for they are weighty as stone and bright as fire. In them lies the essence of humanity’s greatest strength—not wealth, nor conquest, nor knowledge, but the ability to touch another soul with gentleness and gratitude. To take time for kindness is to acknowledge that life is more than the pursuit of self, and to say “thank you” is to honor the sacred bond between giver and receiver.

The origin of these words flows from Ziglar’s mission as a speaker and writer who sought to lift men and women from despair into possibility. He knew that success without kindness is emptiness, that achievement without gratitude is poverty of the spirit. Thus he reminded the weary and the ambitious alike that greatness does not lie in towers of gold but in humble acts of respect, spoken in small syllables yet echoing across eternity. He placed this truth in simple terms so that none could miss it, so that even the busiest and most burdened might pause to practice it.

Consider the power of kindness in history. Abraham Lincoln, weary from the bloodshed of civil war, often visited hospitals where wounded soldiers lay. He spoke gently to them, shook their hands, and wrote letters to their families. In those moments, Lincoln did not wield the might of a president but the tenderness of a man. His thank you to the soldiers who gave their limbs and lives was not a command but a balm. Those simple words carried more healing than any proclamation, reminding a fractured nation that kindness is as necessary to survival as bread.

Think also of Florence Nightingale, the “Lady with the Lamp.” She walked the halls of dark hospitals, not only dressing wounds but offering gentle words to the broken. Her kindness and gratitude to the soldiers under her care gave them courage to endure. She understood what Ziglar proclaimed: that kindness is not weakness, but a weapon against despair, and that gratitude binds hearts together when pain threatens to scatter them.

Yet Ziglar’s wisdom also addresses our own hurried lives. Too often, men and women rush through their days, chasing deadlines, drowning in noise, forgetting the simple power of looking into another’s eyes and saying, “thank you.” We speak of progress, yet we starve the soul. In our haste, we overlook the smallest gestures that could change another’s day, or even their destiny. His words call us back to slowness, to intention, to the eternal rhythm of kindness.

The lesson is clear: cultivate kindness as you would cultivate a garden. Let your lips be quick to bless, your hands ready to serve, your heart eager to give thanks. Do not wait for grand occasions—speak “thank you” in the marketplace, at the table, to the stranger who holds the door, to the friend who remembers your name. These small offerings, though they cost nothing, are riches greater than gold. For in each act of kindness you sow seeds of trust, and in each word of gratitude you build a bridge between souls.

Practically, this means setting aside pride and hurry. Each day, ask yourself: Whom can I lift with kindness? Whom can I honor with gratitude? Write a note, speak a word, give a smile, pause to listen. Do not let the day’s burdens steal from you the chance to bless another. For no matter how mighty or lowly you are, you always possess this power.

So remember Ziglar’s words: “Take time to be kind and to say ‘thank you.’” They are not mere manners, but the lifeblood of human fellowship. Practice them daily, and you will find that in giving kindness, you also receive it; in offering gratitude, you also grow rich. And when your days are numbered and your deeds weighed, it will not be your titles or treasures that endure, but the kindness you showed and the gratitude you spoke, echoing on in the hearts of those you touched.