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Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©
Richard Pearce considered himself a fair man, a gentleman of discernment. His friendships were plentiful, his network expansive, and his reputation as a conversationalist well-earned.
He had a knack for summing people up with a single statement, a phrase he used so often it had become a trademark:
“I used to like him before I heard what he had to say.”
It wasn’t meant to be cruel—at least, Richard didn’t think so. It was his way of assessing character, of sorting wheat from chaff. But those who knew him best saw it differently.
One sunny afternoon, Richard found himself at a small café in the park. A friend of a friend, Henry Townsend, joined him unexpectedly. Henry, a boisterous man with a ready laugh, was a newcomer to their social circle.
“I hear you’re a man of strong opinions, Richard,”
Henry said as he stirred his coffee.
Richard tilted his head, amused.
“I suppose you can say that. I have a good read on people.”
“Well, let’s see then. What do you think of me?”
Richard smiled politely, his eyes narrowing.
“You’re affable, sharp-witted… but prone to over-explanation.”
Henry laughed heartily.
“Fair enough! And what do you think about James Potter?”
Richard leaned back, swirling his tea.
“Ah, James. I used to like him before I heard what he had to say.”
Henry’s smile faltered.
“What did he say?”
“Oh, something about how he sees charity as a personal failing in those who accept it. Can you imagine? A man with such shallow views.”
Henry’s brows furrowed.
“Did you ask him why he thought that? Maybe he has a deeper story.”
Richard waved the thought away.
“One’s words show their heart, Henry. Why dig further?”
~
Months passed, and Richard’s circle seemed to shrink. The people he dismissed began avoiding him, and conversations grew shorter. Henry, nevertheless, remained a steadfast presence. One day, Richard couldn’t help but ask.
“Why do you stay, Henry? Surely, I’ve said something to offend you by now.”
Henry grinned.
“Oh, plenty of times! But if I left, you would not get the chance to hear what you haven’t heard yet.”
Richard frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“You write people off after hearing one thing. But people aren’t books you can skim, Richard. They’re libraries. If you only read one page, you miss the whole story.”
That evening, as Richard walked home alone, Henry’s words lingered. The café, once bustling with friendly faces, seemed quieter now. For the first time, Richard wondered if he’d been too quick with his judgment, too harsh with his words. He couldn’t help but think, —-
And he couldn’t help but think, ––––
And he couldn’t help but think, that he had been too quick to judge, too eager to dismiss. He couldn’t help but think ––––
I used to like myself before I heard what I had to say.
And, before I realized the impact of my words and the depth of my own biases.
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