Saying Yes to Your Universe

Charles grew up in poverty in a New York ghetto. His 'tough guy' image served him well until he was severely handicapped by a gunshot wound incurred in a street fight. His spine was shattered, and he was paralyzed from the waist down.

When I met Charles, he had just completed training in a rehabilitation center and was looking for a job at The Floating Hospital. Charles wanted an opportunity to teach children how to avoid getting into trouble the way he had. He became part of my staff and an inspiration to everyone around him.

One day I walked into one of our classrooms and found Charles sitting with a group of children surrounding him. He was answering all the burning questions that young people have when they look at a handicapped person.

"What does it feel like not to be able to walk?"

"What should I say to someone in a wheelchair?"

"How do you go to the bathroom?"

At one point, Charles asked the group what they thought a handicapped person wanted the most. "Friends!"

"Right!" answered Charles, and all the children spontaneously jumped up and hugged him, shouting, "I'll be your friend!"

I don't know who got more out of the session - Charles, the children, or me.

On another occasion we were giving a party for a new group of senior citizens. Although we had hired a three-piece band for the festivities, the seniors were hesitant about getting into the swing of things. All of a sudden, Charles pushed his chair into the middle of the room and started "dancing" with the music.

"Come on, everyone. If I can get out here and dance, so can you."

Within minutes, he had everyone dancing, laughing, singing and clapping. His spirit was infectious. The strangers in the room quickly became friends. He never missed the opportunity to show people that, with a positive attitude, value can be created from anything that happens to you in life.

I had plenty of opportunities to talk with Charles. He told me that in the early days of his disability he had lost all hope, all will. As he described it,

"It wasn't easy for a macho kid to lose his ability to walk, let alone to lose all control of his bladder and bowels." He was referred to an excellent rehabilitation center, but refused to be helped. The center was about to send him home to make way for someone who was willing to take responsibility for his own life. That was the turning point. Charles knew that if he was sent home, he would have no chance at all. This was his moment to say yes or no to his universe. He's thankful he chose to say yes.

Once that choice was made, his progress was remarkable. Opportunities opened up to him that he'd never thought about before. He decided that his life could have a purpose: to help others in their struggle, whatever that struggle might be. He would be a model, saying, "If I could do it, so can you."

Charles admitted that, strangely, he was grateful now for his handicap, because it made him aware of how much he had to contribute to the world. Before the accident, Charles had been blind to the fact that his life had meaning. Now he believes he was more handicapped before the accident; only since then has he derived satisfaction from living.

-- Susan Jeffers
Excerpt from "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway"