And here the weirdest thing happened: Mr. Tushman's voice cracked a bit, like he got all choked up.
He actually cleared his throat and took a big sip of water. I started paying attention, for real now, to what he was saying.
“The strength of one's courage,” he repeated quietly, nodding and smiling. He held up his right hand like he was counting off.
“Courage. Kindness. Friendship. Character. These are the qualities that define us as human beings, and propel us, on occasion, to greatness.
And this is what the Henry Ward Beecher medal is about: recognizing greatness.
“But how do we do that? How do we measure something like greatness? Again, there's no yardstick for that kind of thing.
How do we even define it? Well, Beecher actually had an answer for that.”
He put his reading glasses on again, leafed through a book, and started to read.
“'Greatness,' wrote Beecher, 'lies not in being strong, but in the right using of strength....”
“'He is the greatest whose strength carries up the most hearts....'”
And again, out of the blue, he got all choked up. He put his two index fingers over his mouth for a second before continuing.
“'He is the greatest,'” he finally continued, “'whose strength carries up the most hearts by the attraction of his own.'”
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