“Generally the patient replies： ‘But there is nothing I like doing.’ Ihave prepared for this answer， because I have heard it so often. ‘thenrefrain from doing anything you dislike，’ I say. Sometimes， however，he will reply： ‘I should like to stay in bed all day.’ I know that， if I allowit， he will no longer want to do it. I know that， if I hinder him， he willstart a war. I always agree.
“This is one rule. Another attacks their style of life more directly.
I tell them： ‘You can be cured in fourteen days if you follow thisprescription. Try to think every day how you can please someone.’
See what this means to them. They are occupied with the thought.
‘How can I worry someone.’ the answers are very interesting. Somesay： ‘this will be very easy for me. I have done it all my life.’ they havenever done it. I ask them to think it over. They do not think it over. Itell them： ‘You can make use of all the time you spend when you areunable to go to sleep by thinking how you can please someone， and itwill be a big step forward in your health.’ When I see them next day，I ask them： ‘did you think over what I suggested?’ they answer： ‘Last night I went to sleep as soon as I got to bed.’ All this must be done， ofcourse， in a modest， friendly manner， without a hint of superiority.
“Others will answer： ‘I could never do it. I am so worried.’ I tellthem：‘don’t stop worrying; but at the same time you can think nowand then of others.’ I want to direct their interest always towardstheir fellows. Many say：‘Why should I please others? Others donot try to please me.’‘You must think of your health，’ I answer. Theothers will suffer later on. It is extremely rare that I have found apatient who said： ‘I have thought over what you suggested.’ All myefforts are devoted towards increasing the social interest of thepatient. I know that the real reason for his malady is his lack of cooperation and I want him to see it too. As soon as he can connecthimself with his fellow men on an equal and cooperative footing， heis cured… The most important task imposed by religion has alwaysbeen ‘Love thy neighbour’… It is the individual who is not interestedin his fellow man who has the greatest difficulties in life and providesthe greatest injury to others. It is from among such individuals thatall human failures spring… All that we demand of a human being，and the highest praise we can give him is that he should be a goodfellow worker， a friend to all other men， and a true partner in loveand marriage.”
Dr. Adler urges us to do a good deed every day. And what is agood deed? “A good deed，” said the prophet Mohammed， “is onethat brings a smile of joy to the face of another.”
Why will doing a good deed every day produce such astoundingefforts on the doer? Because trying to please others will cause usto stop thinking of ourselves： the very thing that produces worryand fear and melancholia.
Mrs. William T. Moon， who operates the Moon SecretarialSchool， 521 Fifth Avenue， New York， didn’t have to spend twoweeks thinking how she could please someone in order to banishher melancholy. She went Alfred Adler one better—no， she went Adler thirteen better. She banished her melancholy， not infourteen days， but in one day， by thinking how she could please acouple of orphans.It happened like this：“In December， five years ago，” said Mrs. Moon， “I was engulfedin a feeling of sorrow and self-pity. After several years of happymarried life， I had lost my husband. As the Christmas holidaysapproached， my sadness deepened. I had never spent a Christmasalone in all my life; and I dreaded to see this Christmas come.
Friends had invited me to spend Christmas with them. But Idid not feel up to any gaiety. I knew I would be a wet blanketat any party. So， I refused their kind invitations. As ChristmasEve approached， I was more and more overwhelmed with selfpity. True， I should have been thankful for many things， as allof us have many things for which to be thankful. The day beforeChristmas， I left my office at three o’clock in the afternoon andstarted walking aimlessly up Fifth Avenue， hoping that I mightbanish my self-pity and melancholy. The avenue was jammedwith gay and happy crowds-scenes that brought back memoriesof happy years that were gone. I just couldn’t bear the thought ofgoing home to a lonely and empty apartment. I was bewildered.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t keep the tears back. Afterwalking aimlessly for an hour or so， I found myself in front of abus terminal. I remembered that my husband and I had oftenboarded an unknown bus for adventure， so I boarded the firstbus I found at the station. After crossing the Hudson River andriding for some time， I heard the bus conductor say： ‘Last stop，lady.’ I got off. I didn’t even know the name of the town. It was aquiet， peaceful little place. While waiting for the next bus home，I started walking up a residential street. As I passed a church， Iheard the beautiful strains of ‘silent Night’。 I went in. The churchwas empty except for the organist. I sat down unnoticed in oneof the pews. The lights from the gaily decorated Christmas tree made the decorations seem like myriads of stars dancing in themoonbeams. The long-drawn cadences of the music—and the factthat I had forgotten to eat since morning—made me drowsy. Iwas weary and heavy-laden， so I drifted off to sleep.
“When I awoke， I didn’t know where I was. I was terrified. Isaw in front of me two small children who had apparently comein to see the Christmas tree. One， a little girl， was pointing at meand saying： ‘I wonder if Santa Clause brought her’。 These childrenwere also frightened when I awoke. I told them that I wouldn’thurt them. They were poorly dressed. I asked them where theirmother and daddy were. ‘We ain’t got no mother and daddy，’