“My life was almost ruined by it.Before I learned to conquer worry，I lived through eleven years of self-made hell.I was irritable and hottempered.I lived under terrific tension.I would take the bus every week from my home in San Mateo to shop in San Francisco.But even while shopping，I worried myself into a dither：maybe I had left the electric iron connected on the ironing board.Maybe the house had caught fire.Maybe the maid had run off and left the children.Maybe they had been out on their bicycles and been killed by a car.In the midst of my shopping，I would often worry myself into a cold perspiration and rush out and take the bus home to see if everything was all right.No wonder my first marriage ended in disaster.
“My second husband is a lawyer—a quiet，analytical man who never worries about anything.When I became tense and anxious，he would say to me：‘relax.Let’s think this out....What are youreally worrying about？Let’s examine the law of averages and see whether or not it is likely to happen.’
“For example，I remember the time we were driving from Albuquerque，New Mexico，to the Carlsbad Caverns—driving on a dirt road—when we were caught in a terrible rainstorm.“The car was slithering and sliding.We couldn’t control it.I was positive we would slide off into one of the ditches that flanked the road；but my husband kept repeating to me：‘I am driving very slowly.Nothing serious is likely to happen.Even if the car does slide into the ditch，by the law of averages，we won’t be hurt.’His calmness and confidence quieted me.
“One summer we were on a camping trip in the Touquin Valley of the Canadian Rockies.One night we were camping seven thousand feet above sea level，when a storm threatened to tear our tents to shreds.The tents were tied with guy ropes to a wooden platform.The outer tent shook and trembled and screamed and shrieked in the wind.I expected every minute to see our tent torn loose and hurled through the sky.I was terrified！But my husband kept saying：‘Look，my dear，we are travelling with Brewster’s guides.Brewster’s know what they are doing.They have been pitching tents in these mountains for sixty years.This tent has been here for many seasons.It hasn’t blown down yet and，by the law of averages，it won’t blow away tonight；and even if it does，we can take shelter in another tent.So relax Idid；and I slept soundly the balance of the night.
“A few years ago an infantile-paralysis epidemic swept over our part of California.In the old days，I would have been hysterical.But my husband persuaded me to act calmly.We took all the precautions we could；we kept our children away from crowds，away from school and the movies.By consultingthe Board of Health，we found out that even during the worst infantile-paralysis epidemic that California had ever known up to that time，only 1，835children had been stricken in the entire state of California.And that the usual number was around two hundred or three hundred.Tragic as those figures are，we nevertheless felt that，according to the law of averages，the chances of any one child being stricken were remote.
“‘By the law of averages，it won’t happen.’that phrase has destroyed ninety per cent of my worries；and it has made the past twenty years of my life beautiful and peaceful beyond my highest expectations.”As I look back across the decades，I can see that is where most of my worries came from also.Jim Grant told me that that had been his experience，too.He owns the James A.Grant Distributing Company，204Franklin Street，New York City.He orders from ten to fifteen car-loads of Florida oranges and grapefruit at a time.He told me that he used to torture himself with such thoughts as：
What if there’s a train wreck？What if my fruit is strewn all over the countryside？What if a bridge collapses as my cars are going across it？Of course，the fruit was insured；but he feared that if he didn’t deliver his fruit on time，he might risk the loss of his market.He worried so much that he feared he had stomach ulcers and went to a doctor.The doctor told him there was nothing wrong with him except jumpy nerves.
“I saw the light then，”he said，“and began to ask myself questions.I said to myself：‘Look here，Jim Grant，how many fruit cars have you handled over the years？’The answer was：‘About twenty-five thousand.’Then I asked myself：‘How many of those cars were ever wrecked？’The answer was：‘Oh—maybe five.’Then I said to myself：‘Only five-out of twenty-five thousand？Do youknow what that means？A ratio of five thousand to one！In other words，by the law of averages，based on experience，the chances are five thousand to one against one of your cars ever being wrecked.So what are you worried about？’
“Then I said to myself：‘Well，a bridge may collapse！’then I asked myself：‘How many cars have you actually lost from a bridge collapsing？’the answer was—‘None.’then I said to myself：‘Aren’t you a fool to be worrying yourself into stomach ulcers over a bridge which has never yet collapsed，and over a railroad wreck when the chances are five thousand to one against it！’
“When I looked at it that way，”Jim Grant told me，“I felt pretty silly.I decided then and there to let the law of averages do the worrying for me—and I have not been troubled with my ‘stomach ulcer’since！”
When Al Smith was Governor of New York，I heard him answer the attacks of his political enemies by saying over and over：“Let’s examine the record ...let’s examine the record.”Then he proceeded to give the facts.The next time you and I are worrying about what may happen，let’s take a tip from wise old Al Smith：Let’s examine the record and see what basis there is，if any，for our gnawing anxieties.That is precisely what FrederickJ.Mahlstedt did when he feared he was lying in his grave.Here is his story as he told it to one of our adult-education classes in New York：
