Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched.
This is an old saying, one that Theodore had heard all his life. And as he grew up on a farm, he understood it, literally. When Theodore was 5 years old, his father had asked him to take care of the chickens; 37 chickens, to be exact. One morning, Theodore went out to check on the chickens and found 41 eggs. He thought it an odd number, which it was, but proceeded to tell his family and his friends about the soon-to-be 41 chicks he would be monitoring, atop his regular 37 chickens.
However, the cold and weasels were not kind. Theodore lost all but 13 eggs and 23 chickens.
So today, standing near the platform, as the telephones around him rang in the results of polls all across the country, Theodore didn’t assume his victory. He waited for it. Smiles were all about him, as some polls had closed and the results were favorable. Some faces bore disappointment, as the closing numbers had shown his party in defeat.
Theodore didn’t want his past to effect today. His past mistakes, his past successes; neither mattered. He had presented himself and his policies. He couldn’t assume anything. No more counting chickens before they are hatched.
The people had to decide.
And they did.