Words have power. The power to harm as well as to heal divide and defeat, unify and uplift. That is why they must be chosen carefully, not sprayed callously like bullets from an automatic weapon.
Today we live in a world where words are twisted and used deliberately to mislead, demean, and destroy. George Orwell, a student of Stalin’s iron grip on the Soviet Union, understood well how words can be weaponized. His cautionary tale, 1984, describes a society in which “Newspeak” is applied systematically and unrelentingly to bend minds to the will of a dictator.
And yet words—the right words—saved the American Revolution and constructed an idea of freedom and free will that has sustained this country for nearly 250 years. Thomas Paine’s 47-page pamphlet, Common Sense, published in 1776, the same year as Thomas Jefferson’s assertion of “certain inalienable rights,” concludes with these words: “We have it in our power to begin the world over again.”
This child of the Great Depression, who lost her arms in a boating accident in early 1941, was a prolific writer. In his eulogy to his mother in 2001, Philip Chanin recalled that, “Rare was the day when I’d return home from work in the evening and not find on my desk several birthday or get-well cards to friends or family, with notes she’d written with a pen in her mouth, waiting for me to add the stamps and return address labels.”
Margaret was also an accomplished speaker. On her way to an eventual career as a professor of preventive dentistry, she studied oratory at Baylor University under Sara Lowrey, chair of the Speech Department.
It was during this time, while World War II was raging, that Margaret became known as the “Sweetheart of Maimed Veterans” for her regular visits to wounded soldiers being treated at a nearby Army hospital. Lowrey, who accompanied her on one of her visits, observed that “as Margaret passed down the aisle between the beds and spoke with ease to the servicemen … it seemed to me that I could see courage coming into their faces.”
In his eulogy, Philip Chanin described his mother as being “deeply acquainted with suffering.” Yet, “she didn’t flinch in the face of others’ distress or despair,” he said. “She calmly and lovingly listened to us, conveying her interest and concern, and offered back to us, with great compassion, from her store of wisdom.”
Margaret was all about building up, not tearing down. She was about restoring faltering and broken hearts, wherever she encountered them. She did that through her easy accessibility and friendly repartee, and through the confidence she projected by her mere presence. Her story is one of survival, of transformation and inspiration.
