Principle of the Week: Presence Over Presents
My intent in sharing these weekly principles is simple—to offer hope and encouragement as we navigate the daily pressures of business and life. Staying principled isn’t always easy. The world around us constantly pushes self-promotion, winning at all costs, and putting ourselves first. But over time, I’ve found there is a better way. A more fulfilling way. A way that puts others first, adds real value, and allows us to be a light in a dark world. This week, we celebrate one of the most meaningful holidays of the year—Christmas. It’s a season meant to slow us down, to pull us out of the rush of deadlines and demands, and to remind us of what truly matters: family, relationships, and the small moments that too often slip by unnoticed. The principle I want you to carry with you this week is simple but powerful: Your presence is more important than any present. Your kids don’t really care about the newest toy. They care about Dad getting on the floor to play with them. They may love the new kitchen set, but what they’ll remember is making cookies with Mom. That new basketball is great—but what they really want is Dad stepping outside to play a game of HORSE. Your time is more valuable, more precious, and more sacred than anything you could place under the Christmas tree. As we enter this holiday season, give the best gift you can give—not something wrapped in paper, but something invested with intention. Give your time. Give your attention. Give your presence. Below is a short story shared by Dale Carnegie that captures this truth better than I ever could. Take a moment and read it. I promise—you won’t regret it. Father Forgets W. Livingston Larned Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside. There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.