A lady ....

in a faded ging­ham dress and her hus­band, dres­sed in a homespun thre­ad­ba­re suit, step­ped off the train in Bos­ton, and wal­ked timid­ly wit­hout an appoint­ment into the Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty President's outer office.

The secre­ta­ry could tell in a moment that such back­woods, coun­try hicks had no busi­ness at Har­vard and pro­ba­b­ly didn't even deser­ve to be in Cambridge.

"We want to see the pre­si­dent," the man said soft­ly. "He'll be busy all day," the secre­ta­ry snap­ped. "We'll wait," the lady replied.

For hours the secre­ta­ry igno­red them, hoping that the cou­ple would final­ly beco­me dis­cou­ra­ged and go away. They didn't and the secre­ta­ry grew fru­stra­ted and final­ly deci­ded to disturb the pre­si­dent, even though it was a cho­re she always reg­ret­ted. "May­be if you see them for a few minu­tes, they'll lea­ve," she said to him!

He sig­hed in exas­pe­ra­ti­on and nod­ded. Someone of his importance obvious­ly didn't have the time to spend with them, but he dete­sted ging­ham dres­ses and homespun suits clut­te­ring up his outer office. The pre­si­dent, stern faced and with dignity, strut­ted toward the couple.

The lady told him, "We had a son who atten­ded Har­vard for one year. He loved Har­vard. He was hap­py here. But about a year ago, he was acci­den­tal­ly kil­led. My hus­band and I would like to erect a memo­ri­al to him, some­whe­re on campus."

The pre­si­dent wasn't touch­ed.... He was shocked. "Madam," he said, gruf­fly, "we can't put up a sta­tue for every per­son who atten­ded Har­vard and died. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery."

"Oh, no," the lady explai­ned quick­ly. "We don't want to erect a sta­tue. We thought we would like to give a buil­ding to Har­vard." The pre­si­dent rol­led his eyes. He glan­ced at the ging­ham dress and homespun suit, then exclai­med, "A buil­ding! Do you have any earth­ly idea how much a buil­ding costs? We have over seven and a half mil­li­on dol­lars in the phy­si­cal buil­dings here at Harvard."

For a moment the lady was silent. The pre­si­dent was plea­sed. May­be he could get rid of them now. The lady tur­ned to her hus­band and said quiet­ly, "Is that all it costs to start a uni­ver­si­ty? Why don't we just start our own?" Her hus­band nod­ded. The president's face wil­ted in con­fu­si­on and bewilderment.

Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stan­ford got up and wal­ked away, tra­ve­ling to Palo Alto, Cali­for­nia whe­re they estab­lished the uni­ver­si­ty that bears their name, Stan­ford Uni­ver­si­ty, a memo­ri­al to a son that Har­vard no lon­ger cared about.

You can easi­ly judge the cha­rac­ter of others by how they tre­at tho­se who they think can do not­hing for them.

[cre­dits: Mal­colm For­bes via John G.]

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