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Years ago, a young man in London aspired to be a writer. But everything seemed to be against him. He had never been able to attend school for more than four years. His father had been flung in jail because he could not pay his debts and this young man often knew the pangs of hunger.
Finally, he got a job pasting labels on bottles of shoe polish in a rat-infested warehouse; and he slept at night in a dismal attic room with two other boys - gutter snipes from the slums of London. He had so little confidence in his ability to write that he sneaked out and mailed his first manuscript in the dead of night so nobody would laugh at him.
Story after story was refused. Finally, the great day came when one was accepted. True, he was not paid a shilling for it, but one editor had praised him. One editor had given him recognition. He was so thrilled that he wandered aimlessly around the streets with tears rolling down his cheeks.
The praise, the recognition that he received by getting one story in print, changed his whole career, for if it had not been for that encouragement, he might have spent his entire life working in rat-infested factories. His name was Charles Dickens. He rose to become one of history's greatest novelists.
Praise is powerful. Praise people and inspire them with a realization of their latent possibilities. Praise the slightest improvement and praise every improvement.
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