Recently, I was reading part two of an article by Bob Burg called “To Have A Body“. In it, he discusses how too often as humans we judge others by their appearance, like judging a book by its cover. Bob’s article brought back a memory I would like to share with you.
First, a little bit about where I was and what I was doing at that point in my life.
I was feeling great and probably a little too smug. It was 1990 and I had just won the national Strategic Account Executive of the Year award for Toshiba. My career was in overdrive and everything was going my way. The local university had asked if I would take part in a technology show by setting up a booth to display the latest laptop computers and talk about the future of the industry. At the time, Toshiba had the most innovative products on the market and had the lion’s share of that marketplace.
For many reasons, I was delighted and excited to take part in the technology show. I was passionate about the technology and loved to talk about it. Now I was going to be able to do so at a university venue to academics, many of whom were from the various science faculties. I love science! What could be better?
We set up a beautiful booth and displayed our best products. On the first day, the booth quickly filled with professors and students all wanting to talk about their various projects and discuss how our technology could help them further their research. I was fascinated and enjoying every moment.
It was about noon, and there were many people waiting to speak with me. Just then, a woman in a wheelchair rolled into the booth. She was a quadriplegic. She had a tube close to her mouth that she would blow into to move and steer her motorized wheelchair. She also had a whiteboard on her lap that she could write on using a long erasable marker, again using her mouth to do so. As well, she had a bib of sorts, as she would salivate quite a bit whilst using her mouth to write or drive her wheelchair.
She wanted some information. I felt very awkward as I approached her. She had written a note that was difficult to read. The note asked if I could give her some information about a particular laptop computer. What, I wondered, would she do with a laptop computer? I grabbed a brochure and placed it in a basket she had on the wheelchair. She wrote another question on her board. The communication between us was slow and very difficult to understand. I was aware of the others waiting in the booth and I was anxious to get back to them. When I had answered her, she grunted a thank you, smiled as best she could and slowly left the booth. I could tell she wanted to ask more questions.
As she rolled out of the booth, I engaged a professor who was studying quasars. Wow! Astronomy, my favorite science. I was elated… for about one minute. I could not get the woman in the wheelchair out of my mind and began to feel awful for not having spent more time with her. She deserved every bit as much of my attention as anyone else.
I felt I had let her down because I was unwilling to spend the time with her. In a way, I had judged her. I had made a decision to spend as little time as possible with her so I could get back to those who were easier to communicate with, mostly because I was interested in what they had to say. Though I was polite, I never gave her the courtesy of showing her the same level of interest.
The next day, the booth was packed. Around mid-morning, the woman in the wheelchair returned. When I saw her, I respectfully broke off from the conversation I was having with a physicist. I walked over to her and said hello. On her lap was a neatly typed note with several questions. With an awkward tilt of her head, she motioned to the note so I picked it up and read it. After I had answered each question, she again grunted a thank you and motioned that she was going to leave. I stopped her and asked her what she was researching. She began to write on her board. This was going to take a while. I grabbed a chair and sat next to her so we could communicate more easily and gave her 100% of my attention. She was doing some very interesting research! She also had a tremendous sense of humor and not one ounce of self-pity.
I asked her how she had managed to type the note she had brought with her and she explained that she had an interface that allowed her to use the blow tube to type by blowing in patterns similar to Morse code. She wanted to incorporate a laptop and a small printer into her chair so she could type messages wherever she went.
We spoke for about an hour. By the end, the communication was getting much easier. During that time, I had wiped her chin for her a few times with Kleenex that she kept in her basket. She finally told me that I really needed to get back to the others who had been waiting patiently. Sighing, I agreed and gave her all of my contact information and invited her to contact me anytime at all. I told her I would be happy to drive out to the university so I could answer her questions and carry on our conversation. Alas, we never saw each other again.
The one hour I spent with her ranks as one of the most humbling and beautiful hours I have ever spent with another human being. Trapped inside her broken body was a beautiful mind and a wonderfully creative imagination. Despite her appearance, she was as graceful as any human I have ever met. Though I am sure she didn’t know it, she brought me back down to ground and taught me lessons I will never forget.
As we move through our lives, we meet people who we sometimes judge too quickly. I believe some of these people are angels sent to teach us valuable lessons. The woman in the wheelchair certainly was — and if she happens to read this, I have these words for her:
From the depth of my heart … thank you!
Photo Credits
Angel ©2010 chrisholtphotos
Quasar © NASA – Public Domain
Toshiba T1200XE © unknown
Originally posted at synaptici.com September 4th, 2009
Great story, Gil. I’m glad that you listened to your heart and spent some time with this amazing woman. The universe never forgets and always rewards good deeds. Thanks for sharing this heart-warming story of love and humility.
Hi George!
Thanks for your kind words. It was a valuable lesson!
Cheers,
Gil
Hi Gil……
🙂
Great job!
Thanks Mary!
Hope all is well in your world!
Miss your words here at LAAH!
Cheers,
Gil
I have to agree with everyone’s comments, and I also find your Mom’s comment especially touching. We never know what form our lessons will arrive in – for you that day, it was the lovely woman in the wheelchair. The fact that you felt a nagging sense that you had treated her less than she deserved is telling, I believe, of who you are. How fortunate you are that she attended the next day, affording you the chance to do things differently. I think that may have been by design 🙂 Thanks for sharing your human side…Carol
Thank you Carol!
I do my best and am forever learning 🙂
Gileeeeeeee
Gil, I don’t know how I missed such a beautiful; article. It seems that God – or the cosmos, or whatever/whoever – had a plan for the two of you and wasn’t about to let you interfere with the plan. I am so glad for you and for the woman in the wheelchair that you read the message and heeded it. I am sure that was a powerful and unforgettable experience for you. Blessings on you both.
Hi Ross!
Thank you so much for your kind words! Like your Woman In The Blue Dress, a lesson came that is indeed powerful and most instructive!
Really appreciate you brother Ross!
Cheers,
Gil
A very touching and heart warming story Gil, thank you for sharing it! How awesome we all are in so many different and wonderful ways! I was sorry to hear you never heard from the woman again, I hope she found all the information she needed to get her chair operating with a communication device, I thought that was an amazing idea!
Wonderful story!
Martha
Hi Martha,
Thanks … I gave her tons of info on second chance. I too have wished she would read this one day. She left me with a great gift 🙂
Cheers,
Gil
You share with us an important truth: sometimes is put in a body with limits, a spirit, which we are only amazed.
(sorry for bad English, im from Switzerland…)
Hi Barbara,
Thanks for your comment 🙂 You’re English is just fine!
Cheers,
Gil
Hello Gil,
Thank you for sharing this site with me.
I have been teaching for 35 yrs.
Regular school. private school, music school; from grade one to university.
I have been working with the handicapped children for the past 8 yrs.
I don’t think I can ever go back to a “normal” school.
My handicapped children have so much to offer
And yes, every day is a lesson in humility.
susan
Hi Susan,
Thanks for your comment 🙂 What you do must be so rewarding at so many levels! I am sure it can not be an easy thing all the time. The world is a better place because of people like you!
Thank you for what you do!
Cheers,
Gil
Beautiful piece, Gil!
And I found your mother’s comment so very touching. (Coincidentally, I am reading this post on Mother’s Day weekend.) <3
A little late! But .. Thanks Katie!!
Hi mom!
Thanks for visiting and thank you for your very kind words. All I can say is I had a couple of very excellent coaches in you and dad 😉
Love you too mom!
Son Gil
What a delight it has been to watch the growth in so few days, twelve now to be exact, of LAAH.
Enlightening to read the excellent articles written by so many varied and interesting folk.
Bravo to one and all and with a special ‘thank you’ to my son Gil, for being what and who he is :a human being who only see’s the best in everyone and everything, and always gives back the same of himself. Atsa my boy 🙂
Much love,
Mom .
I love this article Gil! …so very touching.
it’s such an amazing personal growth experience to be humbled, especially by the least likely of people. As humans we have so much to learn from one another. And thus, it is so important (unless there’s a potential safety issue) to open our minds and hearts to everyone crossing our paths, as to allow these amazing opportunities for growth to enter our existence.
namaste
~kylen
Thanks Kylen 🙂
It was a very instructive experience .. one I am so very grateful for!
Cheers
Gil