Bishop Hanns Lilje writes with compassion of the men who were his guards while he was a prisoner of the Nazis during World War II. He tells of one pitiable old man whose job it was, among other things, to fasten his fetters before he went to sleep at night. One evening after he finished this task, the prisoner found himself unable to resist saying to him in a very polite and courteous voice, "Thank you very much." The old man stood still and stared at him for a moment, and then went on out of the cell. In a moment or two he came back again and said in an awkward rough voice, "No need to thank me for a thing like that!" Bishop Lilje replied with an expression which he knew was dear to the heart of any good German official, "Well, you have only done your duty!" He wrote later that if the man had not lost the power of expressing emotion and tenderness, he would have done so then. But this was beyond him, and so he strode out of the room shaking his head and murmuring to himself.

There is something within most of us which responds to expressions of genuine appreciation, and something happens to us, too, when we are truly grateful for something another is or has done. We do not need, then, to wait for stones to do our cheering for us; we need to do it ourselves.