Page 95 - stephen covey The seven habits of highly effective people

THE SEVEN HABITS OF HIGHLY EFFECTIVE PEOPLE Brought to you by FlyHeart

important to you as the other person is to you. He took it deeply to heart. He engaged his son in a
project to build a miniature Wall of China around their home. It was a consuming project, and they
worked side by side on it for over a year and a half.
Through that bonding experience, the son moved through that phase in his life and into an increased
desire to develop his mind. But the real benefit was what happened to the relationship. Instead of a
sore spot, it became a source of joy and strength to both father and son.
Our tendency is to project out of our own autobiographies what we think other people want or need.
We project our intentions on the behavior of others. We interpret what constitutes a deposit based on
our own needs and desires, either now or when we were at a similar age or stage in life. If they don't
interpret our effort as a deposit, our tendency is to take it as a rejection of our well-intentioned effort
and give up.
The Golden Rule says to "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you." While on the
surface that could mean to do for them what you would like to have done for you, I think the more
essential meaning is to understand them deeply as individuals, the way you would want to be
understood, and then to treat them in terms of that understanding. As one successful parent said
about raising children, "Treat them all the same by treating them differently."

Attending to the Little Things

The little kindnesses and courtesies are so important. Small discourtesies, little unkindnesses, little
forms of disrespect make large withdrawals. In relationships, the little things are the big things.
I remember an evening I spent with two of my sons some years ago. It was an organized
father-and-son outing, complete with gymnastics, wrestling matches, hot dogs, orangeade, and a movie
-- the works.
In the middle of the movie, Sean, who was then four years old, fell asleep in his seat. His older
brother, Stephen, who was six, stayed awake, and we watched the rest of the movie together. When it
was over, I picked Sean up in my arms, carried him out to the car and laid him in the back seat. It was
very cold that night, so I took off my coat and gently arranged it over and around him.
When we arrived home, I quickly carried Sean in and tucked him into bed. After Stephen put on
his "jammies" and brushed his teeth, I lay down next to him to talk about the night out together.
"How'd you like it, Stephen?"
"Fine," he answere"
"Did you have fun?"
"Yes."
"What did you like most?"
"I don't know. The trampoline, I guess."
"That was quite a thing, wasn't it -- doing those somersaults and tricks in the air like that?"
There wasn't much response on his part. I found myself making conversation. I wondered why
Stephen wouldn't open up more. He usually did when exciting things happened. I was a little
disappointed. I sensed something was wrong; he had been so quiet on the way home and getting
ready for bed.
Suddenly Stephen turned over on his side, facing the wall. I wondered why and lifted myself up
just enough to see his eyes welling up with tears.
"What's wrong, honey? What is it?"
He turned back, and I could sense he was feeling some embarrassment for the tears and his
quivering lips and chin
"Daddy, if I were cold, would you put your coat around me too?"
Of all the events of that special night out together, the most important was a little act of kindness -- a