Here is an unsolicited bit of advice: Don’t go to the Dairy Queen in a small town on Sunday night just about the time church lets out, unless you’re not in a hurry. I was out of town town trying to meet a time deadline, so I thought I would drive through the DQ. So did everyone else for miles around.

I decided counter service certainly would be faster. I parked and went inside to find the rest of the community there. The line snaked around to the door and folks were trying to figure out where to stand without breaking in line. They had just left church so everyone was being real nice.

Men were shaking hands over kids and women were talking about the upcoming church bake sale. I felt like I was from another planet trying to act like I fit in. I started to just jump in and say I was bringing a chocolate sheet cake. I figured we could be best friends by the time we got our food.

Every time I moved forward the lady behind me stepped a little closer. My three feet of personal space had been squeezed down to one foot. The woman and her daughter at the counter couldn't decide what to order. Honestly we had been standing in line for 10 minutes but when the girl said, “What can I get you,” they were still wavering between chicken strips with French fries or onion rings. I wanted so badly to say, “Go with the fries!”

They finally decided on fruit cups. Suddenly I realized the space invader behind me was breathing on my neck. I tried to move forward, but was blocked by a very large woman holding two frozen ice cream cakes that said, “Happy Birthday Roy Dean.” I turned to the Lamaze breathing I learned 30 years ago.

All of a sudden I realized I was the only one who was fidgeting and it wasn’t speeding anything up. So I mentally rescheduled my self imposed deadline and relaxed.

If Facebook would have been here when my mom was living she wouldn’t have had friends, she would have had fans. She knew people from all arenas of life and could chat with a stranger like a longtime best friend. After a conversation with a new person, Mom knew three interesting facts about her just found friend. She thought everyone and their stories were fascinating. I’m quite sure she did her share of fascinating others too.

Nancy was one of my favorites in my mom’s inner circle of friends. She was 5 foot nothing and I’m sure didn’t weigh 100 pounds soaking wet. What she lacked in size she made up for in spunk.

One day Nancy, in her early 70’s, was stopped at a very busy intersection. She was first in a long line of traffic at a red light. The instant the light turned green the man in the car behind her hit the horn like a game show contestant. She glanced in her rear view mirror and saw how angry he looked. She put her car in park, got out in her high heels and walked back to his car. She motioned for him to roll down his window. In exasperation he did and she very politely asked, “Did you need me for something?”

“No lady, the light turned green,” he said rolling his eyes. “Ohhhh,” she said in her southern drawl. “I thought you needed something so I thought I’d better check. OK, if you don’t need anything, I’ll go back to my car. Have a good day,” she waved as she slowly walked back to her car.

By the time she closed her door, the light was red again.

Nancy made her point without raising her voice or stomping her feet. And many times we (especially women) can say something loudly without opening our mouths. So much of communication is tone of voice, facial expression and body language anyway. Instead of yelling, screaming and fit throwing, why don’t we get creative and tap in to our inventory of communication skills? It’s a lot more effective, so much more fun, and there’s really no need to yell unless the house is on fire.

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”
-Proverbs 15:1