When I started writing this book， I offered a two-hundreddollarprize for the most helpful and inspiring true story on “HowI Conquered Worry”.
The three judges for this contest were： Eddie Rickenbacker，president， Eastern Air Lines； Dr. Stewart W. McClelland，president， Lincoln Memorial University； H. V. Kaltenborn， radionews analyst. However， we received two stories so superb that thejudges found it impossible to choose between them. So we dividedthe prize. Here is one of the stories that tied for first prize—thestory of C. R. Burton.
“I lost my mother when I was nine years old， and my fatherwhen I was twelve，” Mr. Burton wrote me. “My father was killed，but my mother simply walked out of the house one day nineteenyears ago； and I have never seen her since. Neither have I everseen my two little sisters that she took with her. She never evenwrote me a letter until after she had been gone seven years. Myfather was killed in an accident three years after Mother left. Heand a partner bought a cafe in a small Missouri town； and whileFather was away on a business trip， his partner sold the cafe forcash and skipped out. A friend wired Father to hurry back home；and in his hurry， Father was killed in a car accident at Salinas，Kansas. Two of my father’s sisters， who were poor and old andsick took three of the children into their homes. Nobody wantedme and my little brother. We were left at the mercy of the town.
We were haunted by the fear of being called orphans and treated as orphans. Our fears soon materialised， too. I lived for a littlewhile with a poor family in town. But times were hard and thehead of the family lost his job， so they couldn’t afford to feed meany longer. Then Mr. and Mrs. Loftin took me to live with themon their farm eleven miles from town. Mr. Loftin was seventyyears old， and sick in bed with shingles. He told me I could staythere ‘as long as I didn’t lie， didn’t steal， and did as I was told’.
Those three orders became my Bible. I lived by them strictly. Istarted to school， but the first week found me at home， bawlinglike a baby. The other children picked on me and poked fun atmy big nose and said I was dumb and called me an ‘orphan brat’.
I was hurt so badly that I wanted to fight them； but Mr. Loftin，the farmer who had taken me in， said to me： ‘Always rememberthat it takes a bigger man to walk away from a fight than it doesto stay and fight.’ I didn’t fight until one day a kid picked up somechicken manure from the schoolhouse yard and threw it in myface. I beat the hell out of him； and made a couple of friends.
They said he had it coming to him.
“I was proud of a new cap that Mrs. Loftin had bought me.
One day one of the big girls jerked it off my head and filled it withwater and ruined it. She said she filled it with water so that ‘thewater would wet my thick skull and keep my popcorn brains frompopping’.
“I never cried at school， but I used to bawl it out at home.
Then one day Mrs. Loftin gave me some advice that did away withall troubles and worries and turned my enemies into friends. Shesaid： ‘Ralph， they won’t tease you and call you an “orphan brat”
any more if you will get interested in them and see how muchyou can do for them.’ I took her advice. I studied hard； and I soonheaded the class. I was never envied because I went out of myway to help them.
“I helped several of the boys write their themes and essays.
I wrote complete debates for some of the boys. One lad wasashamed to let his folks know that I was helping him. So he usedto tell his mother he was going possum hunting. Then he wouldcome to Mr. Loftin’s farm and tie his dogs up in the barn while Ihelped him with his lessons. I wrote book reviews for one lad andspent several evenings helping one of the girls on her math’s.
“Death struck our neighbourhood. Two elderly farmers diedand one woman was deserted by her husband. I was the only malein four families. I helped these widows for two years. On my wayto and from school， I stopped at their farms， cut wood for them，milked their cows， and fed and watered their stock. I was nowblessed instead of cursed. I was accepted as a friend by everyone.
They showed their real feelings when I returned home from theNavy. More than two hundred farmers came to see me the first dayI was home.
Some of them drove as far as eighty miles， and their concernfor me was really sincere. Because I have been busy and happytrying to help other people， I have few worries； and I haven’t beencalled an ‘orphan brat’ now for thirteen years.”
Hooray for C. R. Burton！ He knows how to win friends！ Andhe also knows how to conquer worry and enjoy life.
So did the late Dr. Frank Loope， of Seattle， Washington. He wasan invalid for twenty-three years. Arthritis. Yet Stuart Whithouseof the Seattle Star wrote me， saying： “I interviewed Dr. Loopemany times； and I have never known a man more unselfish or aman who got more out of life.”
How did this bed-ridden invalid get so much out of life？ I’llgive you two guesses. Did he do it by complaining and criticising？
No.... By wallowing in self-pity and demanding that he be the centreof attention and everyone cater to him？ No.... Still wrong. He did it by adopting as his slogan the motto of the Prince of Wales： “Ichdien” — “I serve.” He accumulated the names and addresses of otherinvalids and cheered both them and himself by writing happy，encouraging letters. In fact， he organised a letterwriting club forinvalids and got them writing letters to one another. Finally， heformed a national organisation called the Shut-in Society.
As he lay in bed， he wrote an average of fourteen hundred lettersa year and brought joy to thousands of invalids by getting radios andbooks for shut-ins.
