The Art of Graciousness

A Truly Gracious Woman


Her name was Nelda and I am her daughter.  I want to paint a picture of her and in order to do that, a little bit of history/background is essential.

Nelda - little girl far right

She was born in a small Arizona town in the early 1920’s, 4th child and 2nd daughter of 5 children.   By age 13 her father had died.  Her mother remarried after some years, but it was not ideal and did not last.  It was the era of the Great Depression. As a result of  these circumstances, she did not have luxuries.  Her favorite treat at Christmas was a fresh orange.  She had “hand-me-downs” or dresses home made by her mother. She grew up fierce and determined. When a “rich” girl at school called her “white trash”, she hauled her behind the bleachers and “whooped her good” to the cheers of many students.  And yet, with her angelic face and smile, her lovely blonde hair and blue eyes, she was also graceful and charming.  She was kind and loving.  She was smart and brave and intelligent.  She was caring and thoughtful of others.


I’m not sure where she learned it;  how to be GRACIOUS.  I’m sure it started with her mother.  Faced with extremely difficult circumstances after losing her husband to pneumonia, her own mother had a hard task raising 5 teenagers.  It was there, I believe, that my mom began to learn how to be a thoughtful, considerate, and gracious woman.  I think it started at home, but more was to come.

She met Loren in her first year of college.  She was 18 and he was a year older.  Not many months later, on a moonlit night while the radio played soft music in the car, he asked her to marry him.  The date was December 7, 1941 and minutes after she said “yes”, the announcement came that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. 

He signed up for flight training to become a bomber pilot.  They married and they moved  to be closer to his training site.  Loren was not only training to be a pilot, but also an officer in the Air Force.  Nelda made friends with other Army Air corps wives to pass the many long and lonely hours.  Hours learning how to be a wife to a military officer and how to fit in and identify with virtual strangers; these other military wives who would become life long friends.

How did a scrappy young girl, who could knock the socks off a bully, become a model of graciousness and decorum?  I have been a military officers’ daughter, then later a wife to a Naval Officer.  I believe I may have, as a result, had a glimpse into my mothers’ psyche; just a bit. 

She learned to put others first.  Did she let herself “go” as a result?  No, she took care of her own needs, but she was never consumed with it.  She noticed others.  She cared about people.  She SAW them.  When talking to someone, she focused ON THEM.  When your husbands career is dependent on being pleasing and accommodating to senior officers, my mother learned to do the same.  She knew her time to shine would come and never felt the need to put herself above others.  When you show interest in other people, they will often end up finding you interesting as well.  At the very least they will appreciate your kindness.

She learned how to converse.   Conversation is “two-way”.  It is not a monologue; it is a sharing of thoughts, ideas, experiences and dreams.  It is SHARING.  She never tried to “one-up” or top a story.  If it even smacked of “topping”, she would hold her tongue and allow the limelight to stay on the other person in the conversation.  Because, as she taught me, “topping” or “one-upping” makes the other person feel small and unheard.

She also was a master at asking questions to draw someone into the conversation further.  She showed genuine interest.  She looked the speaker in the eye, nodded and gave indication she was listening, and smiled her wonderful smile when the topic called for it.  

And, she NEVER interrupted someone in the middle of a sentence.  “Never, ever, interupt!” was drilled into me.  It’s just rude.  It’s like wearing a sign that says, “what you have to say is not as important as what I want to say!”.

She learned that how you make others feel is very important.  My mom worked with the youth in our church while I, myself, was a youth.  She was our camp director for girls camp.  Now, 50 years later, there are still girls-turned-women who will contact me to express gratitude for they way my mom treated them, made them feel like they mattered, and for being a soft place to turn to.  She did it through her interest, kindness, and genuine caring for them. 

Now, my mom, Nelda, was no saint.  She could get angry.  She even cussed now and then.  She would get hurt and offended.  But she was human and she tried always to be her best.  This is where her art of being gracious always kicked in.  She reminded me of a story I read (can’t remember the title) of how she’d put on her best dress, her best smile, and go greet the world with open arms, no matter the calamities or misfortunes in her private life. 

This, I believe, is the art of being gracious.  According to Miriam-Webster: "gracious, cordial, affable, genial, sociable mean markedly pleasant and easy in social intercourse. gracious implies courtesy and kindly consideration".   I would venture to say it is an art that is bordering on extinction.   And you aren't born with it.  You learn it.  Something we could all do well to learn and practice.