just beginning to understand how to pray. Bargaining with God is not real prayer, and asking him for what I want, even good things, I’ve had to learn, is not the highest form of prayer. I used to think I knew what was good for me and I, the captain, would give my instructions to my lieutenant, God, to carry out. That is very different from praying only for the knowledge of God’s will and the power for me to carry it out.
Time for meditation is hard to find, I imagine, for most of us. Today’s living is so involved. But I’ve set aside a few minutes night and morning. I am filled with gratitude to God these days. It is one of my principal subjects for meditation; gratitude for all the love and beauty and friends around me; gratitude even for the hard days of long ago that taught me so much. At least I’ve made a start and have improved to some small degree my conscious contact with God.
Step 12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
I am like many AAs who do not realize when their spiritual awakening occurred. Mine was a slow developing experience. Even following a sudden spiritual awakening, no one can stand still. One either moves forward, or slips backward. In retrospect, I can see a change for the better between my old and new self, and I hope that tomorrow, next month, next year, I shall continue to see a better new self.
And nothing has done more to move me forward than carrying the AA message to those non-alcoholics who do not yet comprehend and are still in need of the understanding and help of those who have gone before.
Anne Smith
March 21, 1881 — June 1, 1949
June 1950
Somehow we believe Dr. Bob’s beloved Anne would prefer this simple tribute beyond all others. It was written by one who knew her well. It came from the bottom of a grateful heart which sensed that extravagant language and trumpeting phrases would serve only to obscure a life that had deep meaning.
–The Editors
It is doubtful if now, only one year after her passing, that the true significance of Anne Smith’s life can be realized. Certainly it cannot yet be written, for the warmth of her love, and charm of her personality and the strength of her humility are still upon those of us who knew her.
For Anne Smith was far more than a gracious lady. She was one of four people, chosen by a Higher Destiny, to perform a service to mankind. How great this contribution is, only time and an intelligence beyond man’s can determine. With Dr. Bob, Lois and Bill, Anne Smith stepped into history, not as a heroine but as one willing to accept God’s will and ready to do what needed to be done.
Her kitchen was the battleground and, while Anne poured the black coffee, a battle was fought there which has led to your salvation and mine. It was she, perhaps, who first understood the miracle of what passed between Bill and Dr. Bob. And, in the years to follow, it was she who knew with divine certainty that what had happened in her home would happen in other homes again, again, and yet again. For Anne understood the simplicity of faith. Perhaps that’s why God chose her for us. Perhaps that’s why Anne never once thought of herself as a “woman of destiny” but went quietly about her job. Perhaps that’s why, when she said to a grief-torn wife, “Come in, my dear, you’re with friends now—friends who understand” that fear and loneliness vanished. Perhaps that’s why Anne always sat in the rear of the meetings, so she could see the newcomers as they came, timid and doubtful … and make them welcome.
There’s a plaque on the wall of Akron’s St. Thomas Hospital dedicated to Anne. It’s a fine memorial. But there’s a finer one lying alongside the typewriter as this is being written—letters to Dr. Bob from men and women who knew and loved her well. Each tries to put in words what is felt in many hearts. They fail—and that’s the tribute beyond price. For real love, divine love, escapes even the poet’s pen.
So, in the simplest way we know, and speaking for every AA everywhere, let’s just say “Thanks, Dr. Bob, for sharing her with us.” We know that she’s in a Higher Group now, sitting well to the back, with an eye out for newcomers, greeting the strangers and listening for their names!
What We Were Like (Henrietta Seiberling)
Fragments of AA History
June 1991 [Excerpt]
The following is an excerpt from an article written by Bill W. in the January 1951 Grapevine. It describes Bill’s call to Henrietta Seiberling, daughter-in-law of the founder of Goodyear Tire Company. It was she who put him in touch with Dr. Bob that fateful day in May of 1935, which led to the founding of Alcoholics Anonymous.
–The Editors
It was a Saturday in May 1935. An ill-starred business venture had brought me to Akron where it immediately collapsed, leaving me in a precarious state of sobriety. That afternoon I paced the lobby of Akron’s Mayflower Hotel. As I peered at the gathering crowd in the bar, I became desperately frightened of a slip. It was the first severe temptation since my New York friend had laid before me what were to become the basic principles of AA, in November 1934. For the next six months I had felt utterly secure in my sobriety. But now there was no security; I felt alone, helpless. In the months before I had worked hard with other alcoholics. Or, rather, I had preached at them in a somewhat cocksure fashion. In my false assurance I felt I couldn’t fall. But this time it was different. Something had to be done at once.
Glancing at a church directory at the far end of the lobby, I selected the name of a clergyman at random. Over the phone I told him of my need to work with another alcoholic. Though I’d had no previous success with any of them I suddenly realized how such work had kept me free from desire. The clergyman gave me a list of ten names. Some of these people, he was sure, would refer me a case in need of help. Almost running to my room, I seized the phone. But my enthusiasm soon ebbed. Not a person in the first nine called could, or would, suggest anything to meet my urgency. One uncalled name still stood at the head of my list—Henrietta Seiberling. Somehow I couldn’t muster courage to lift the phone. But after one more look into the bar downstairs something said to me, “You’d better.” To my astonishment a warm Southern voice floated in over the wire. Declaring herself no alcoholic, Henrietta nonetheless insisted that she understood. Would I come to her home at once?
Because she had been enabled to face and transcend other calamities, she certainly did understand mine. She was to become a vital link to those fantastic events which were presently to gather around the birth and development of our AA Society. Of all names the obliging rector had given me, she was the only one who cared enough. I would here like to record our timeless gratitude.
Straightaway, she pictured the plight of Dr. Bob and Anne. Suiting action to her word, she called their house. As Anne answered, Henrietta described me as a sobered alcoholic from New York who, she felt sure, could help Bob. The good doctor had seemingly exhausted all medical and spiritual remedies for his condition. Then Anne replied, “What you say, Henrietta, is terribly interesting. But I am afraid we can’t do anything now. Being Mother’s Day, my dear boy has just brought in a fine potted plant. The pot is on the table but, alas, Bob is on the floor. Could we try to make it tomorrow?” Henrietta instantly issued a dinner invitation for the following day.
At five o’clock next afternoon, Anne and Dr. Bob stood at Henrietta’s door. She discreetly whisked Bob and me off to the library. His words were, “Mighty glad to meet you, Bill. But it happens I can’t stay long; five or ten minutes at the outside.” I laughed and observed, “Guess you’re pretty thirsty, aren’t you?” His rejoinder was, “Well, maybe you do understand this
