If kindness was a coat, we’d wear it proudly even in summer.
If honour was a hat, we’d put it on even if inside our home.
If courage was a pin badge, we’d clip it over our silk and suede.
If truth was a book, we’d make it pocket sized and carry it with us all day long.
If respect was a ring, we’d wear it even if it didn’t fit.
And if patience was a pair of shoes, we’d wear them even if tattered and worn out.
But they’ve been made into traits that are invisible and heavy to carry at times. No one can see yours and you can’t see mine. But we all show them from time to time – when occasions call for it, when God asks us of it, when society demands it, when our children need to see it, and when it’s the right thing to do but it feels so so hard.
Perhaps the true measure of who we are is not how beautifully we speak of these virtues, but how faithfully we practise them – when they cost us something. In the end, our character is not what we carry within us, but what people carry away from us.