Are you in any way like me? Do you check your blog often after posting to see if any other blogger has liked your post? Do you get excited when you read a comment, because you know that someone has really taken the time to read your post and shared his or her personal thoughts with you?
I personally love that part of blogging. Once I post an article I can’t wait to get back to my blog and check my page and my statistics. Without others’ encouragement it is hard to go on sometimes. Many are the times when I despair and it becomes so difficult to continue. I plan to quit. I do so for a day or two but then the love of writing gets the better of me and I write and write.
I remember when my kids were small and they had so called CAT exams in school at the end of each term. They were too young to understand the meaning as well as the importance of those exams. I tried to explain it to them but after a while I decided that the best way to go about it is by rewarding them. They had been visited by the tooth fairy before so why not be visited by the exam fairy during exam weeks? So every time they finished an exam and did well, the exam fairy would visit them. She brought them colored pencils, pens, pads, diaries, and sometimes even cash. The ‘exam fairy’ became our ‘thing’ until they were a little older. Maybe some educationists will disagree with my method but hey, it worked.
We all need to be rewarded. We all need to be appreciated somehow. No matter how rationally we seem to look at things we are nothing but human. And as such we have feelings and emotions that sometimes need to be nurtured. And as Albert Schweitzer writes:
“Sometimes our light goes out but is blown into flame by another human being. Each of us owes deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this light.”
Once again I would like to repost a true story by Dale Carnegie:
Half a century ago, another boy in London was working as a clerk in a dry-goods store. He had to get up at five o’clock, sweep out the store, and slave for fourteen hours a day. It was sheer drudgery and he despised it. After two years, he could stand it no longer, so he got up one morning and, without waiting for breakfast, tramped fifteen miles to talk to his mother, who was working as a housekeeper.
He was frantic. He pleaded with her. He wept. He swore he would kill himself if he had to remain in the shop any longer. Then he wrote a long, pathetic letter to his old school master, declaring that he was heartbroken, that he no longer wanted to live. His old schoolmaster gave him a little praise and assured him that he really was very intelligent and fitted for finer things and offered him a job as a teacher.
The praise changed the future of that boy and made a lasting impression on the history of English literature. For that boy has since written seventy-seven books and made over a million dollars with his pen. You’ve probably heard of him. His name is H.G. Wells.