Letter to A Grandson On His and My Birthday
October 22, 2017
Dear Conner,
October 25 is a special day, not just that you and I share it as a birthday, but that it is also Saint Crispin’s Day, and this year it also marks the 602nd anniversary of England’s victory over France in the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. You will turn 18; I will be 80. “Eighteen and eighty” has a pleasing ring.
So, as you come to this milestone, remember this: As you are, so once was I. As I am so you will be.
The older I become the easier it is for me to separate the good from the bad. It’s much harder at your age. You have time and vigor on your side. I am rich with scars and hard-won wisdom. So, on your 18th birthday, I am giving you the best I have share.
Hold fast to your values. You know right from wrong. Trust your instincts. Apart from good health, values will be your most sustaining resource.
Live a life of selflessness and gratitude. With every success remind yourself of who helped you get there. “Me” is the home of selfishness and is a bottomless pit of trouble. The most fun you can have with money or other resources is to share it.
Say what you mean; mean what you say. Keep every promise, even small ones, e.g., “I will call you next week.”
Persistence is the closest thing to omnipotence in human affairs. You’d be surprised how often the winner is the one still standing after all else quit.
Intellect and effectiveness are not the same. Unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Effectiveness is the child of persistence, learning and an open mind.
Make no half-hearted commitments. To do so ensures failure. Go all in or don’t go.
Much of the above can be inferred in Henry V’s speech to his soldiers on the eve of the battle of Agincourt (Shakespeare, Henry V).
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day, and live old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,
And say “Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.”
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say “These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words—
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester—
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
English