May I Have a Minute of Your Time?

History is long. The great sweep of time and eternity is long—endlessly long—but the moral life of each of us is not. And whether we live short lives, or long, the years move swiftly—from the freer years of youth, through the period of preparation, to a period of performance—then on the real and glorious opportunities of eternity.

And no matter how old and aged seem to youth, and no matter how young the young seem to those who are old, the young and the old are not so far apart, and “one even happeneth to hem all.”

And now a moment about the man who says “May I have a minute of your time?” Usually, he doesn’t really mean a minute, and the minute he asks for is often multiplied.

We could give him money—and make even more. We could give him goods—and may be manufacture more. But as to time—it “is the [very] stuff life is made of,” and in a very real sense we are responsible for the time we take form our own lives and from others.

And when we ask a man for a moment—or much more—do we take his time for trivia, or do we add meaning and understanding to his life?

Would we take his time for what could tempt him, for what could burden or enslave him, for what would fill his heart with regret, or his mind with unpleasant memories? Or for what would build him up and add to health and happiness and peace and progress?

In a very real sense we are responsible for what we take time for, or our own and that of others. In a very real sense we are responsible for the ideas and impressions we let loose.

For this reason we are deeply aware of the scared trust and responsibility of entering other men’s hearts and homes and lives by any means whatsoever, for all of us have the responsibility for the time we take, for the influence we have, for the total effect on others.