Where I live, it’s a well-known local fact that trying to find a tradesman or any help that sticks to their word is like finding a midnight rainbow. It especially saddens me as I am a stickler for such things.
Unlike most people would think, though, I don’t keep my word to be pedantic. I do it because I understand the meaning of being flippant with one’s promises.
My Apache Indian friend said it best when I was late to an appointment with him. After I’d profusely apologised for my tardiness and given a multitude of excuses, he simply smiled. “No need to apologise to me,” he said. “But to yourself, maybe?”
It was his (and now my) belief that our word is our bond. We don’t make promises to others, but to ourselves. So how little must one think of themselves not to keep their own promises… to themselves? Of course, that doesn’t mean we can’t change our minds, but well in advance of the promise, not after.
Since then, my word has become my bond. Not for anyone but myself. I hold my own words in such high esteem that to break them would be uncomfortable at best. And when someone does something they promise to do, no matter how seemingly insignificant it may seem, it says oceans to me as to the sort of person they are.