Chicken Soup for The Soul part 3

Make It Come True
In 1957 a ten-year-old boy in California set a goal. At the time Jim Brown was the
greatest running back ever to play pro football and this tall, skinny boy wanted
his autograph. In order to accomplish his goal, the young boy had to overcome
some obstacles.
He grew up in the ghetto, where he never got enough to eat.
Malnutrition took its toll, and a disease called rickets forced him to wear steel
splints to support his skinny, bowed-out legs. He had no money to buy a ticket to
get into the game, so he waited patiently near the locker room until the game
ended and Jim Brown left the field. He politely asked Brown for his autograph. As
Brown signed, the boy explained, "Mr. Brown, I have your picture on my wall. I
know you hold all the records. You're my idol."
Brown smiled and began to leave, but the young boy wasn't finished. He
proclaimed, "Mr. Brown, one day I'm going to break every record you hold!"
Brown was impressed and asked, "What is your name, son?" The boy replied,
"Orenthal James. My friends call me O. J."
O. J. Simpson went on to break all but three of the rushing records held by Jim
Brown before injuries shortened his football career. Goal setting is the strongest
force for human motivation. Set a goal and make it come true.
Dan Clark
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I Think I Can!
Whether you think you can or think you can't, you 're right.
Henry Ford
Rocky Lyons, the son of New York Jets defensive end Marty Lyons, was five years
old when he was driving through rural Alabama with his mother, Kelly. He was
asleep on the front seat of their pickup truck, with his feet resting on her lap.
As his mom drove carefully down the winding two lane country road, she turned
onto a narrow bridge. As she did, the truck hit a pothole and slid off the road, and
the right front wheel got stuck in a rut. Fearing the truck would tip over, she
attempted to jerk it back up onto the road by pressing hard on the gas pedal and
spinning the steering wheel to the left. But Rocky's foot got caught between her
leg and the steering wheel and she lost control of the pickup truck.
The truck flipped over and over down a 20-foot ravine. When it hit bottom, Rocky
woke up. "What happened, Mama?" he asked. "Our wheels are pointing toward
the sky."
Kelly was blinded by blood. The gearshift had jammed into her face, ripping it
open from lip to forehead. Her gums were torn out, her cheeks pulverized, her
shoulders crushed. With one shattered bone sticking out of her armpit, she was
pinned against the crushed door.
"I'll get you out, Mama," announced Rocky, who had miraculously escaped injury.
He slithered out from under Kelly, slid through the open window and tried to yank
his mother out. But she didn't move. "Just let me sleep," begged Kelly, who was
drifting in and out of consciousness. "No, Mama," Rocky insisted. "You can't go to
sleep."
Rocky wriggled back into the truck and managed to push Kelly out of the
wreckage. He then told her he'd climb up to the road and stop a car to get help.
Fearing that no one would be able to see her little boy in the dark, Kelly refused
to let him go alone. Instead they slowly crept up the embankment, with Rocky
using his meager 40-pound frame to push his 104-pound mother. They crawled
inches at a time. The pain was so great that Kelly wanted to give up, but Rocky
wouldn't let her.
To urge his mother on, Rocky told her to think "about that little train," the one in
the classic children's story, The Little Engine That Could, which managed to get
up a steep mountain. To remind her, Rocky kept repeating his version of the
version of the
When they finally reached the road, Rocky was able to see his mother's torn face
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clearly for the first time. He broke into tears. Waving his arms and pleading,
"Stop! Please stop!" the boy hailed a truck. "Get my mama to a hospital," he
implored the driver.
It took 8 hours and 344 stitches to rebuild Kelly's face. She looks quite different
today—"I used to have a straight long nose, thin lips and high cheekbones; now
I've got a pug nose, flat cheeks and much bigger lips"—but she has few visible
scars and has recovered from her injuries. Rocky's heroics were big news. But the
spunky youngster insists he didn't do anything extraordinary. "It's not like I
wanted it to happen," he explains. "I just did what anyone would have done."
Says his mother, "If it weren't for Rocky, I'd have bled to death."
First heard from Michele Borba
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Rest In Peace: The "I Can't" Funeral
Donna's fourth-grade classroom looked like many others I had seen in the past.
Students sat in five rows of six desks. The teacher's desk was in the front and
faced the students. The bulletin board featured student work. In most respects it
appeared to be a typically traditional elementary classroom. Yet something
seemed different that day I entered it for the first time. There seemed to be an
undercurrent of excitement.
Donna was a veteran small-town Michigan schoolteacher only two years away
from retirement. In addition she was a volunteer participant in a county-wide staff
development project I had organized and facilitated. The training focused on
language arts ideas that would empower students to feel good about themselves
and take charge of their lives. Donna's job was to attend training sessions and
implement the concepts being presented. My job was to make classroom
visitations and encourage implementation.
I took an empty seat in the back of the room and watched. All the students were
working on a task, filling a sheet of notebook paper with thoughts and ideas. The
ten-year-old student closest to me was filling her page with "I Can'ts."
"I can't kick the soccer ball past second base."
"I can't do long division with more than three numerals."
"I can't get Debbie to like me."
Her page was half full and she showed no signs of letting up. She worked on with
determination and persistence.
I walked down the row glancing at students' papers. Everyone was writing
sentences, describing things they couldn't do.
"I can't do ten push-ups."
"I can't hit one over the left-field fence."
"I can't eat only one cookie."
By this time, the activity engaged my curiosity, so I decided to check with the
teacher to see what was going on. As I approached her, I noticed that she too
was busy writing. I felt it best not to interrupt.
"I can't get John's mother to come in for a teacher conference."
"I can't get my daughter to put gas in the car."
"I can't get Alan to use words instead of fists."
Thwarted in my efforts to determine why students and teacher were dwelling on
the negative instead of writing the more positive "I Can" statements, I returned
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to my seat and continued my observations. Students wrote for another ten
minutes. Most filled their page. Some started another.
"Finish the one you're on and don't start a new one," were the instructions Donna
used to signal the end of the activity. Students were then instructed to fold their
papers in half and bring them to the front. When students reached the teacher's
desk, they placed their "I Can't" statements into an empty shoe box.
When all of the student papers were collected, Donna added hers. She put the lid
on the box, tucked it under her arm and headed out the door and down the hall.
Students followed the teacher. I followed the students.
Halfway down the hall the procession stopped. Donna entered the custodian's
room, rummaged around and came out with a shovel. Shovel in one hand, shoe
box in the other, Donna marched the students out of the school to the farthest
corner of the playground. There they began to dig.
They were going to bury their "I Can'ts"! The digging took over ten minutes
because most of the fourth-graders wanted a turn. When the hole approached
three-feet deep, the digging ended. The box of "I Can'ts" was placed in position at
the bottom of the hole and quickly covered with dirt.
Thirty-one 10 and 11-year-olds stood around the freshly dug grave site. Each had
at least one page full of "I Can'ts" in the shoe box, four-feet under. So did their
teacher.
At this point Donna announced, "Boys and girls, please join hands and bow your
heads." The students complied. They quickly formed a circle around the grave,
creating a bond with their hands. They lowered their heads and waited. Donna
delivered the eulogy.
"Friends, we gather today to honor the memory of 'I Can't.' While he was with us
on earth, he touched the lives of everyone, some more than others. His name,
unfortunately, has been spoken in every public building—schools, city halls, state
capitols and yes, even The White House.
"We have provided 'I Can't' with a final resting place and a headstone that
contains his epitaph. He is survived by his brothers and sister 'I Can', 'I Will' and
'I'm Going to Right Away.' They are not as well known as their famous relative
and are certainly not as strong and powerful yet.
Perhaps some day, with your help, they will make an even bigger mark on the
world.
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"May 1 Can't' rest in peace and may everyone present pick up their lives and
move forward in his absence. Amen."
As I listened to the eulogy I realized that these students would never forget this
day. The activity was symbolic, a metaphor for life. It was a right-brain
experience that would stick in the unconscious and conscious mind forever.
Writing "I Can'ts," burying them and hearing the eulogy. That was a major effort
on the part of this teacher. And she wasn't done yet. At the conclusion of the
eulogy she turned the students around, marched them back into the classroom
and held a wake.
They celebrated the passing of "I Can't" with cookies, popcorn and fruit juices. As
part of the celebration, Donna cut out a large tombstone from butcher paper. She
wrote the words "I Can't" at the top and put RIP in the middle. The date was
added at the bottom.
The paper tombstone hung in Donna's classroom for the remainder of the year.
On those rare occasions when a student forgot and said, "I Can't," Donna simply
pointed to the RIP sign. The student then remembered that "I Can't" was dead
and chose to rephrase the statement.
I wasn't one of Donna's students. She was one of mine. Yet that day I learned an
enduring lesson from her.
Now, years later, whenever I hear the phrase, "I Can't," I see images of that
fourth-grade funeral. Like the students, I remember that "I Can't" is dead.
Chick Moorman
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The 333 Story
I was doing a weekend seminar at the Deerhurst Lodge, north of Toronto. On
Friday night a tornado swept through a town north of us called Barrie, killing
several people and doing millions of dollars worth of damage. Sunday night, as I
was coming home, I stopped the car when I got to Barrie. I got out on the side of
the highway and looked around. It was a mess. Everywhere I looked there were
smashed houses and cars turned upside down.
That same night Bob Templeton was driving down the same highway. He stopped
to look at the disaster just as I had, only his thoughts were different than my
own. Bob was the vice president of Telemedia Communications, which owns a
string of radio stations in Ontario and Quebec. He thought there must be
something we could do for these people with the radio stations they had.
The following night I was doing another seminar in Toronto. Bob Templeton and
Bob Johnson, another vice president from Telemedia, came in and stood in the
back of the room. They shared their conviction that there had to be something
they could do for the people in Barrie. After the seminar we went back to Bob's
office. He was now committed to the idea of helping the people who had been
caught in the tornado.
The following Friday he called all the executives at Telemedia into his office. At
the top of a flip chart he wrote three 3s. He said to his executives "How would
you like to raise 3 million dollars 3 days from now in just 3 hours and give the
money to the people in Barrie?" There was nothing but silence in the room.
Finally someone said, "Templeton, you're crazy. There is no way we could do
that."
Bob said, "Wait a minute. I didn't ask you if we could or even if we should. I just
asked you if you'd like to."
They all said, "Sure, we'd like to." He then drew a large T underneath the 333. On
one side he wrote, "Why we can't." On the other side he wrote, "How we can."
"I'm going to put a big X on the 'Why we can't side.' We're not going to spend any
time on the ideas of why we can't. That's of no value. On the other side we're
going to write down every idea that we can come up with on how we can. We're
not going to leave the room until we figure it out." There was silence again.
Finally, someone said, "We could do a radio show across Canada." Bob said,
"That's a great idea," and wrote it down.
Before he had it written, someone said, "You can't do a radio show across
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Canada. We don't have radio stations across Canada." That was a pretty valid
objection. They only had stations in Ontario and Quebec.
Templeton replied, "That's why we can. That stays." But this was a really strong
objection because radio stations are very competitive. They usually don't work
together and to get them to do so would be virtually impossible according to the
standard way of thinking.
All of a sudden someone suggested, "You could get Harvey Kirk and Lloyd
Robertson, the biggest names in Canadian broadcasting to anchor the show."
(That would be like getting Tom Brokaw and Sam Donaldson to anchor the show.
They are anchors on national TV. They are not going to go on radio.) At that point
it was absolutely amazing how fast and furious the creative ideas began to flow.
That was on a Friday. The following Tuesday they had a radiothon. They had 50
radio stations all across the country that agreed to broadcast it. It didn't matter
who got the credit as long as the people in Barrie got the money. Harvey Kirk and
Lloyd Robertson anchored the show and they succeeded in raising 3 million
dollars in 3 hours within 3 business days!
You see you can do anything if you put your focus on how to do it rather than on
why you can't.
Bob Proctor
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There Are No Vans
I remember one Thanksgiving when our family had no money and no food, and
someone came knocking on our door. A man was standing there with a huge box
of food, a giant turkey and even some pans to cook it in. I couldn't believe it. My
dad demanded, "Who are you? Where are you from?"
The stranger announced, "I'm here because a friend of yours knows you're in
need and that you wouldn't accept direct help, so I've brought this for you. Have
a great Thanksgiving."
My father said, "No, no, we can't accept this." The stranger replied "You don't
have a choice," closed the door and left.
Obviously that experience had a profound impact on my life. I promised myself
that someday I would do well enough financially so that I could do the same thing
for other people. By the time I was 18 I had created my Thanksgiving ritual. I like
to do things spontaneously, so I would go out shopping and buy enough food for
one or two families. Then I would dress like a delivery boy, go to the poorest
neighborhood and just knock on a door. I always included a note that explained
my Thanksgiving experience as a kid. The note concluded, "All that I ask in return
is that you take good enough care of yourself so that someday you can do the
same thing for someone else." I have received more from this annual ritual than I
have from any amount of money I've ever earned.
Several years ago I was in New York City with my new wife during Thanksgiving.
She was sad because we were not with our family. Normally she would be home
decorating the house for Christmas, but we were stuck here in a hotel room.
I said, "Honey, look, why don't we decorate some lives today instead of some old
trees?" When I told her what I always do on Thanksgiving, she got excited. I said,
"Let's go someplace where we can really appreciate who we are, what we are
capable of and what we can really give. Let's go to Harlem!" She and several of
my business partners who were with us weren't really enthusiastic about the idea.
I urged them: "C'mon, let's go to Harlem and feed some people in need. We
won't be the people who are giving it because that would be insulting. We'll just
be the delivery people. We'll go buy enough food for six or seven families for 30
days. We've got enough. Let's just go do it! That's what Thanksgiving really is:
Giving good thanks, not eating turkey. C'mon. Let's go do it!"
Because I had to do a radio interview first, I asked my partners to get us started
by getting a van. When I returned from the interview, they said "We just can't do
it. There are no vans in all of New York. The rent-acar places are all out of vans.
They're just not available."
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I said, "Look, the bottom line is that if we want something, we can make it
happen! All we have to do is take action. There are plenty of vans here in New
York City. We just don't have one. Let's go get one." They insisted, "We've called
everywhere. There aren't any."
I said, "Look down at the street. Look down there. Do you see all those vans?"
They said, "Yeah, we see them."
"Let's go get one," I said. First I tried walking out in front of vans as they were
driving down the street. I learned something about New York drivers that day:
They don't stop; they speed up.
Then we tried waiting by the light. We'd go over and knock on the window and
the driver would roll it down, looking at us kind of leery, and I'd say "Hi. Since
today is Thanksgiving, we'd like to know if you would be willing to drive us to
Harlem so we can feed some people." Every time the driver would look away
quickly, furiously roll up the window and pull away without saying anything.
Eventually we got better at asking. We'd knock on the window, they'd roll it down
and we'd say, "Today is Thanksgiving. We'd like to help some underprivileged
people, and we're curious if you'd be willing to drive us to an underprivileged area
that we have in mind here in New York City." That seemed slightly more effective
but still didn't work. Then we started offering people $100 to drive us. That got us
even closer, but when we told them to take us to Harlem, they said no and drove
off.
We had talked to about two dozen people who all said no. My partners were ready
to give up on the project, but I said, "It's the law of averages: somebody is going
to say yes." Sure enough, the perfect van drove up. It was perfect because it was
extra big and would accommodate all of us. We went up, knocked on the window
and we asked the driver, "Could you take us to a disadvantaged area? Well pay
you a hundred dollars." The driver said, "You don't have to pay me. I'd be happy
to take you. In fact, I'll take you to some of the most difficult spots in the whole
city." Then he reached over on the seat and grabbed his hat. As he put it on, I
noticed that it said, "Salvation Army." The man's name was Captain John Rondon
and he was the head of the Salvation Army in the South Bronx.
We climbed into the van in absolute ecstasy. He said, "I'll take you places you
never even thought of going. But tell me something. Why do you people want to
do this?" I told him my story and that I wanted to show gratitude for all that I
had by giving something back.
Captain Rondon took us into parts of the South Bronx that make Harlem look like
Beverly Hills. When we arrived, we went into a store where we bought a lot of
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food and some baskets. We packed enough for seven families for 30 days. Then
we went out to start feeding people. We went to buildings where there were half a
dozen people living in one room: "squatters" with no electricity and no heat in the
dead of winter surrounded by rats, cockroaches and the smell of urine. It was
both an astonishing realization that people lived this way and a truly fulfilling
experience to make even a small difference.
You see, you can make anything happen if you commit to it and take action.
Miracles like this happen every day—even in a city where "there are no vans."
Anthony Robbins
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Ask, Ask, Ask
The greatest saleswoman in the world today doesn't mind if you call her a girl.
That's because Markita Andrews has generated more than eighty thousand dollars
selling Girl Scout cookies since she was seven years old.
Going door-to-door after school, the painfully shy Markita transformed herself into
a cookie-selling dynamo when she discovered, at age 13, the secret of selling.
It starts with desire. Burning, white-hot desire.
For Markita and her mother, who worked as a waitress in New York after her
husband left them when Markita was eight years old, their dream was to travel
the globe. "I'll work hard to make enough money to send you to college," her
mother said one day. "You'll go to college and when you graduate, you'll make
enough money to take you and me around the world. Okay?"
So at age 13 when Markita read in her Girl Scout magazine that the Scout who
sold the most cookies would win an all-expenses-paid trip for two around the
world, she decided to sell all the Girl Scout cookies she could—more Girl Scout
cookies than anyone in the world, ever. But desire alone is not enough. To make
her dream come true, Markita knew she needed a plan
"Always wear your right outfit, your professional garb," her aunt advised. "When
you are doing business, dress like you are doing business. Wear your Girl Scout
uniform. When you go up to people in their tenement buildings at 4:30 or 6:30
and especially on Friday night, ask for a big order. Always smile, whether they
buy or not, always be nice. And don't ask them to buy your cookies; ask them to
invest."
Lots of other Scouts may have wanted that trip around the world. Lots of other
Scouts may have had a plan. But only Markita went off in her uniform each day
after school, ready to ask—and keep asking —folks to invest in her dream. "Hi. I
have a dream. I'm earning a trip around the world for me and my mom by
merchandising Girl Scout cookies," she'd say at the door. "Would you like to invest
in one dozen or two dozen boxes of cookies?"
Markita sold 3,526 boxes of Girl Scout cookies that year and won her trip around
the world. Since then, she has sold more than 42,000 boxes of Girl Scout cookies,
spoken at sales conventions across the country, starred in a Disney movie about
her adventure and has coauthored the bestseller, How to Sell More Cookies,
Condos, Cadillacs, Computers ... And Everything Else.
Markita is no smarter and no more extroverted than thousands of other people,
young and old, with dreams of their own. The difference is Markita has discovered
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the secret of selling: Ask, Ask, Ask! Many people fail before they even begin
because they fail to ask for what they want. The fear of rejection leads many of
us to reject ourselves and our dreams long before anyone else ever has the
chance—no matter what we're selling.
And everyone is selling something. "You're selling yourself everyday— in school,
to your boss, to new people you meet," said Markita at 14. "My mother is a
waitress: she sells the daily special. Mayors and presidents trying to get votes are
selling. . . . One of my favorite teachers was Mrs. Chapin. She made geography
interesting, and that's really selling. ... I see selling everywhere I look. Selling is
part of the whole world."
It takes courage to ask for what you want. Courage is not the absence of fear. It's
doing what it takes despite one's fear. And, as Markita has discovered, the more
you ask, the easier (and more fun) it gets.
Once, on live TV, the producer decided to give Markita her toughest selling
challenge. Markita was asked to sell Girl Scout cookies to another guest on the
show. "Would you like to invest in one dozen or two dozen boxes of Girl Scout
cookies?" she asked.
"Girl Scout cookies?! I don't buy any Girl Scout cookies!" he replied. "I'm a
Federal Penitentiary warden. I put 2,000 rapists, robbers, criminals, muggers and
child abusers to bed every night."
Unruffled, Markita quickly countered, "Mister, if you take some of these cookies,
maybe you won't be so mean and angry and evil. And, Mister, I think it would be
a good idea for you to take some of these cookies back for every one of your
2,000 prisoners, too." Markita asked.
The warden wrote a check.
Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen
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Did The Earth Move For You?
Eleven-year-old Angela was stricken with a debilitating disease involving her
nervous system. She was unable to walk and her movement was restricted in
other ways as well. The doctors did not hold out much hope of her ever
recovering from this illness. They predicted she'd spend the rest of her life in a
wheelchair. They said that few, if any, were able to come back to normal after
contracting this disease. The little girl was undaunted. There, lying in her hospital
bed, she would vow to anyone who'd listen that she was definitely going to be
walking again someday.
She was transferred to a specialized rehabilitation hospital in the San Francisco
Bay area. Whatever therapies could be applied to her case were used. The
therapists were charmed by her undefeatable spirit. They taught her about
imaging—about seeing herself walking. If it would do nothing else, it would at
least give her hope and something positive to do in the long waking hours in her
bed. Angela would work as hard as possible in physical therapy, in whirlpools and
in exercise sessions. But she worked just as hard lying there faithfully doing her
imaging, visualizing herself moving, moving, moving!
One day, as she was straining with all her might to imagine her legs moving
again, it seemed as though a miracle happened: The bed moved! It began to
move around the room! She screamed out, "Look what I'm doing! Look! Look! I
can do it! I moved, I moved!"
Of course, at this very moment everyone else in the hospital was screaming, too,
and running for cover. People were screaming, equipment was falling and glass
was breaking. You see, it was the recent San Francisco earthquake. But don't tell
that to Angela. She's convinced that she did it. And now only a few years later,
she's back in school. On her own two legs. No crutches, no wheelchair. You see,
anyone who can shake the earth between San Francisco and Oakland can conquer
a piddling little disease, can't they?
Hanoch McCarty
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Tommy's Bumper Sticker
A little kid down at our church in Huntington Beach came up to me after he heard
me talk about the Children's Bank. He shook my hand and said, "My name is
Tommy Tighe, I'm six years old and I want to borrow money from your Children's
Bank."
I said, "Tommy, that's one of my goals, to loan money to kids. And so far all the
kids have paid it back. What do you want to do?"
He said, "Ever since I was four I had a vision that I could cause peace in the
world. I want to make a bumper sticker that says, 'PEACE, PLEASE! DO IT FOR US
KIDS,' signed 'Tommy'."
"I can get behind that," I said. He needed $454 to produce 1,000 bumper
stickers. The Mark Victor Hansen Children's Free Enterprise Fund wrote a check to
the printer who was printing the bumper stickers. Tommy's dad whispered in my
ear, "If he doesn't pay the loan back, are you going to foreclose on his bicycle?"
I said, "No, knock on wood, every kid is born with honesty, morality and ethics.
They have to be taught something else. I believe he'll pay us back." If you have a
child who is over nine, let them w-o-r-k for m-o-n-e-y for someone honest, moral
and ethical so they learn the principle early.
We gave Tommy a copy of all of my tapes and he listened to them 21 times each
and took ownership of the material. It says, "Always start selling at the top."
Tommy convinced his dad to drive him up to Ronald Reagan's home. Tommy rang
the bell and the gatekeeper came out. Tommy gave a two-minute, irresistible
sales presentation on his bumper sticker. The gatekeeper reached in his pocket,
gave Tommy $1.50 and said, "Here, I want one of those. Hold on and I'll get the
former President."
I asked, "Why did you ask him to buy?" He said, "You said in the tapes to ask
everyone to buy." I said, "I did. I did. I'm guilty."
He sent a bumper sticker to Mikhail Gorbachev with a bill for $1.50 in U.S. funds.
Gorbachev sent him back $1.50 and a picture that said, "Go for peace, Tommy,"
and signed it, "Mikhail Gorbachev, President."
Since I collect autographs, I told Tommy, "I'll give you $500.00 for Gorbachev's
autograph."
He said, "No thanks, Mark."
I said, "Tommy, I own several companies. When you get older, I'd like to hire
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you."
"Are you kidding?" he answered. "When I get older, I'm going to hire you."
The Sunday edition of the Orange County Register did a feature section on
Tommy's story, the Children's Free Enterprise Bank and me. Marty Shaw, the
journalist, interviewed Tommy for six hours and wrote a phenomenal interview.
Marty asked Tommy what he thought his impact would be on world peace. Tommy
said, "I don't think I am old enough yet; I think you have to be eight or nine to
stop all the wars in the world."
Marty asked, "Who are your heroes?"
He said, "My dad, George Burns, Wally Joiner and Mark Victor Hansen." Tommy
has good taste in role models.
Three days later, I got a call from the Hallmark Greeting Card Company. A
Hallmark franchisee had faxed a copy of the Register article. They were having a
convention in San Francisco and wanted Tommy to speak. After all, they saw that
Tommy had nine goals for himself:
1. Call about cost (baseball card collateral).
2. Have bumper sticker printed.
3. Make a plan for a loan.
4. Find out how to tell people.
5. Get address of leaders.
6. Write a letter to all of the presidents and leaders of other countries and send
them all a free bumper sticker.
7. Talk to everyone about peace.
8. Call the newspaper stand and talk about my business.
9. Have a talk with school.
Hallmark wanted my company, Look Who's Talking, to book Tommy to speak.
While the talk did not happen because the two-week lead time was too short, the
negotiation between Hallmark, myself and Tommy was fun, uplifting and
powerful.
Joan Rivers called Tommy Tighe to be on her syndicated television show.
Someone had also faxed her a copy of the Register interview on Tommy.
"Tommy," Joan said, "this is Joan Rivers and I want you on my TV show which is
viewed by millions."
"Great!" said Tommy. He didn't know her from a bottle of Vicks.
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"I'll pay you $300," said Joan.
"Great!" said Tommy. Having listened repeatedly to and mastered my Sell Yourself
Rich tapes, Tommy continued selling Joan by saying: "I am only eight years old,
so I can't come alone. You can afford to pay for my mom, too, can't you, Joan?"
"Yes!" Joan replied.
"By the way, I just watched a Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous show and it said
to stay at the Trump Plaza when you're in New York. You can make that happen,
can't you, Joan?"
"Yes," she answered.
"The show also said when in New York, you ought to visit the Empire State
Building and the Statue of Liberty. You can get us tickets, can't you?"
"Yes ..."
"Great. Did I tell you my mom doesn't drive? So we can use your limo, can't we?"
"Sure," said Joan.
Tommy went on The Joan Rivers Show and wowed Joan, the camera crew, the
live and television audiences. He was so handsome, interesting, authentic and
such a great self-starter. He told such captivating and persuasive stories that the
audience was found pulling money out of their wallets to buy a bumper sticker on
the spot.
At the end of the show, Joan leaned in and asked, "Tommy, do you really think
your bumper sticker will cause peace in the world?"
Tommy, enthusiastically and with a radiant smile, said, "So far I've had it out two
years and got the Berlin Wall down. I'm doing pretty good, don't you think?"
Mark V. Hansen
*To date Tommy has sold over 2,500 of his bumper stickers and has repaid his
$454 loan to Mark Victor Hansen's Children's Free Enterprise Bank. If you'd like to
order one of Tommy's bumper stickers, send $3.00 to Tommy Tighe, 17283 Ward
Street, Fountain Valley, CA 92708.
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If You Don't Ask, You Don't Get —But If You Do, You Do
My wife Linda and I live in Miami, Florida. When we had just started our self
esteem
training program called Little Acorns to teach children how to say no to
drugs, sexual promiscuity and other self-destructive behavior, we received a
brochure for an educational conference in San Diego. As we read the brochure
and realized that everybody who is anybody was going to be there, we realized
we had to go. But we didn't see how. We were just getting started, we were
working out of our home and had just about exhausted our personal savings with
the early stages of the work. There was no way we could afford the airline tickets
or any of the other expenses. But we knew we had to be there, so we started
asking.
The first thing I did was to call the conference coordinators in San Diego, explain
why we just had to be there and ask them if they would give us two
complimentary admissions to the conference. When I explained our situation,
what we were doing and why we had to be there, they said yes. So now we had
the tickets.
I told Linda we had the tickets and we could get into the conference. She said,
"Great! But we're in Miami and the conference is in San Diego. What do we do
next?"
So I said, "We've got to get transportation." I called an airline I knew was doing
well at the time, Northeast Airlines. The woman who answered happened to be
the secretary to the president so I told her what I needed. She put me directly
through to the president, Steve Quinto. I explained to him that I had just talked
to the conference people in San Diego, they had given us free tickets to the
conference but we were stuck on how to get there and would he please donate
two roundtrip tickets from Miami to San Diego. He said, "Of course I will," just
like that. It was that fast and the next thing he said really floored me. He said,
"Thank you for asking."
I said, "Pardon me?"
He said "I don't often have the opportunity to do the best thing that I can for the
world unless someone asks me to. The best thing I can ever do is to give of
myself and you've asked me to do that. That's a nice opportunity and I want to
thank you for that opportunity." I was blown away, but I thanked him and hung
up the phone. I looked at my wife and said, "Honey, we got the plane tickets."
She said, "Great! Where do we stay?"
Next I called the Holiday Inn Downtown Miami and asked, "Where is your
headquarters?" They told me it was in Memphis, Tennessee, so I called Tennessee
and they patched me through to the person I needed to talk to. It was a guy in
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San Francisco. He controlled all of the Holiday Inns in California. I then explained
to him that we had obtained our plane tickets through the airlines and asked if
there were some way he could help us with the lodging for the three days. He
asked if it would be okay if he put us up in their new hotel in downtown San
Diego as his guest. I said, "Yes, that would be fine."
He then said, "Wait a minute. I need to caution you that the hotel is about a 35-
mile drive from the campus where the conference is being held and you'll have to
find out how to get there."
I said, 'I'll figure it out if I need to buy a horse." I thanked him and I said to
Linda, "Well, honey, we've got the admission, we've got the plane tickets and
we've got a place to stay. What we need now is a way to get back and forth from
the hotel to the campus twice a day."
Next I called National Car Rental, told them the story and asked if they could help
me out. They said, "Would a new Olds 88 be okay?" I said it would be.
In one day we had put the whole thing together.
We did wind up buying our own meals for part of the time but before the
conference was over, I stood up, told this story at one of the general assemblies
and said, "Anyone who wants to volunteer to take us to lunch now and again
would be graciously thanked." About fifty people jumped up and volunteered so
we wound up having some of the meals thrown in as well.
We had a marvelous time, learned a lot and connected with people like Jack
Canfield who is still on our advisory board. When we returned, we launched the
program and it's been growing about 100 percent a year. This last June we
graduated our 2,250th family from the Little Acorn training. We've also held two
major conferences for educators called Making The World Safe For Children, to
which we've invited people from all over the world. Thousands of educators have
come to get ideas on how to do self-esteem training in their classrooms while
they're still teaching the three Rs.
The last time we sponsored the conference we invited educators from 81 nations
to come. Seventeen nations sent representatives including some ministers of
education. Out of that has grown invitations for us to take our program to the
following places: Russia, Ukraine, Byelorussia, Gelaruth, Kazakhstan, Mongolia,
Taiwan, the Cook Islands and New Zealand.
So you see you can get anything you want if you just ask enough people.
Rick Gelinas
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Rick Little's Quest
At 5 am, Rick Little fell asleep at the wheel of his car, hurtled over a ten-foot
embankment and crashed into a tree. He spent the next six months in traction
with a broken back. Rick found himself with a lot of time to think deeply about his
life—something for which the thirteen years of his education had not prepared
him. Only two weeks after he was dismissed from the hospital, he returned home
one afternoon to find his mother lying semiconscious on the floor from an
overdose of sleeping pills. Rick confronted once again the inadequacy of his
formal education in preparing him to deal with the social and emotional issues of
his life.
During the following months Rick began to formulate an idea—the development of
a course that would equip students with high self-esteem, relationship skills and
conflict management skills. As Rick began to research what such a course should
contain, he ran across a study by the National Institute of Education in which
1,000 30-year-olds had been asked if they felt their high school education had
equipped them with the skills they needed for the real world. Over 80 percent
equipped them with the skills they needed for the real world. Over 80 percent
responded, "Absolutely not."
These 30-year-olds were also asked what skills they now wish they had been
taught. The top answers were relationship skills: How to get along better with the
people you live with. How to find and keep a job. How to handle conflict. How to
be a good parent. How to understand the normal development of a child. How to
handle financial management. And how to intuit the meaning of life.
Inspired by his vision of creating a class that might teach these things, Rick
dropped out of college and set across the country to interview high school
students. In his quest for information on what should be included in the course,
he asked over 2,000 students in 120 high schools the same two questions:
1. If you were to develop a program for your high school to help you cope with
what you're meeting now and what you think you'll be meeting in the future,
what would that program include?
2. List the top ten problems in your life that you wish were dealt with better at
home and in school.
Whether the students were from wealthy private schools or inner city ghettos,
rural or suburban, the answers were surprisingly the same.
Loneliness and not liking themselves topped the list of problems. In addition, they
had the same list of skills they wished they were taught as the ones compiled by
of skills they wished they were taught as the ones compiled by
Rick slept in his car for two months, living on a total of $60.00. Most days he ate
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peanut butter on crackers. Some days he didn't eat at all. Rick had few resources
but he was committed to his dream.
His next step was to make a list of the nation's top educators and leaders in
counseling and psychology. He set out to visit everyone on his list to ask for their
expertise and support. While they were impressed with his approach—asking
students directly what they wanted to learn —they offered little help. "You're too
young. Go back to college. Get your degree. Go to graduate school, then you can
pursue this." They were less than encouraging.
Yet Rick persisted. By the time he turned 20, he had sold his car, his clothes, had
borrowed from friends and was $32,000 in debt. Someone suggested he go to a
foundation and ask for money.
His first appointment at a local foundation was a huge disappointment. As he
walked into the office, Rick was literally shaking with fear. The vice president of
the foundation was a huge dark-haired man with a cold stern face. For a half hour
he sat without uttering a word while Rick poured his heart out about his mother,
the two thousand kids and plans for a new kind of course for high school kids.
When he was through, the vice-president pushed up a stack of folders. "Son," he
said, "I've been here nearly 20 years. We've funded all these education programs.
And they all failed. Yours will, too. The reasons? They're obvious. You're 20 years
old, you have no experience, no money, no college degree. Nothing!"
As he left the foundation office, Rick vowed to prove this man wrong. Rick began
a study of which foundations were interested in funding projects for teenagers.
He then spent months writing grant proposals— working from early morning until
late at night. Rick worked for over a year laboriously writing grant proposals, each
one carefully tailored to the interests and requirements of the individual
foundations. Each one went out with high hopes and each one came back—
rejected.
Proposal after proposal was sent out and rejected. Finally, after the 155th grant
proposal had been turned down, all of Rick's support began to crumble.
Rick's parents were begging him to go back to college and Ken Greene, an
educator who had left his job to help Rick write proposals, said, "Rick, I have no
money left and I have a wife and kids to support. I'll wait for one more proposal.
But if it's a turndown, I'll have to go back to Toledo and to teaching."
Rick had one last chance. Activated by desperation and conviction, he managed to
talk himself past several secretaries and he secured a lunch date with Dr. Russ
Mawby, President of the Kellogg Foundation. On their way to lunch they passed an
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ice cream stand. "Would you like one?" Mawby asked. Rick nodded. But his
anxiety got the better of him. He crushed the cone in his hand and, with
chocolate ice cream running between his fingers, he made a surreptitious but
frantic effort to shake it loose before Dr. Mawby could note what had happened.
But Mawby did see it, and bursting into laughter, he went back to the vendor and
brought Rick a bunch of paper napkins.
The young man climbed into the car, red-faced and miserable. How could he
request funding for a new educational program when he couldn't even handle an
ice cream cone?
Two weeks later Mawby phoned. "You asked for $55,000. We're sorry, but the
trustees voted against it." Rick felt tears pressing behind his eyes. For two years
he had been working for a dream; which would now go down the drain.
"However," said Mawby, "the trustees did vote unanimously to give you
$130,000."
The tears came then. Rick could hardly even stammer out a thank you. Since that
time Rick Little has raised over $100,000,000 to fund his dream. The Quest Skills
Programs are currently taught in over 30,000 schools in all 50 states and 32
countries. Three million kids per year are being taught important life skills
because one 19-year-old refused to take "no" for an answer.
In 1989, because of the incredible success of Quest, Rick Little expanded his
dream and was granted $65,000,000, the second largest grant ever given in U.S.
history, to create The International Youth Foundation. The purpose of this
foundation is to identify and expand successful youth programs all over the world.
Rick Little's life is a testament to the power of commitment to a high vision,
coupled with a willingness to keep on asking until one manifests the dream.
Adapted from Peggy Mann
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The Magic Of Believing
I'm not old enough to play baseball or football. I'm not eight yet. My mom told
me when you start baseball, you aren't going to be able to run that fast because
you had an operation. I told Mom I wouldn't need to run that fast. When I play
baseball, I'll just hit them out of the park. Then I'll be able to walk. Edward J.
McGrath, Jr. "An Exceptional View of Life"
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Glenna's Goal Book
In 1977 I was a single mother with three young daughters, a house payment, a
car payment and a need to rekindle some dreams.
One evening I attended a seminar and heard a man speak on the I x V = R
Principle. (Imagination mixed with Vividness becomes Reality.) The speaker
pointed out that the mind thinks in pictures, not in words. And as we vividly
picture in our mind what we desire, it will become a reality.
This concept struck a chord of creativity in my heart. I knew the Biblical truth that
the Lord gives us "the desires of our heart" (Psalms 37:4) and that "as a man
thinketh in his heart, so is he" (Proverbs 23:7). I was determined to take my
written prayer list and turn it into pictures. I began cutting up old magazines and
gathering pictures that depicted the "desires of my heart." I arranged them in an
expensive photo album and waited expectantly.
I was very specific with my pictures. They included:
1. A good-looking man
2. A woman in a wedding gown and a man in a tuxedo
3. Bouquets of flowers (I'm a romantic)
4. Beautiful diamond jewelry (I rationalized that God loved David and Solomon
and they were two of the richest men who ever lived)
5. An island in the sparkling blue Caribbean
6. A lovely home
7. New furniture
8. A woman who had recently become vice president of a large corporation. (I
was working for a company that had no female officers. I wanted to be the first
woman vice president in that company).
About eight weeks later, I was driving down a California freeway, minding my own
business at 10:30 in the morning. Suddenly a gorgeous red-and-white Cadillac
passed me. I looked at the car because it was a beautiful car. And the driver
looked at me and smiled, and I smiled back because I always smile. Now I was in
deep trouble. Have you ever done that? I tried to pretend that I hadn't looked.
"Who me? I didn't look at you!" He followed me for the next 15 miles. Scared me
to death! I drove a few miles, he drove a few miles. I parked, he parked.... and
eventually I married him!
On the first day after our first date, Jim sent me a dozen roses. Then I found out
that he had a hobby. His hobby was collecting diamonds. Big ones! And he was
looking for somebody to decorate. I volunteered! We dated for about two years
and every Monday morning I received a longstemmed red rose and a love note
from him.
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About three months before we were getting married, Jim said to me, "I have
found the perfect place to go on our honeymoon. We will go to St. John's Island
down in the Caribbean." I laughingly said, "I never would have thought of that!"
I did not confess the truth about my picture book until Jim and I had been
married for almost a year. It was then that we were moving into our gorgeous
new home and furnishing it with the elegant furniture that I had pictured. (Jim
turned out to be the West Coast wholesale distributor for one of the finest eastern
furniture manufacturers).
By the way, the wedding was in Laguna Beach, California, and included the gown
and tuxedo as realities. Eight months after I created my dream book, I became
became
In some sense this sounds like a fairy tale, but it is absolutely true. Jim and I
have made many "picture books" since we have been married. God has filled our
lives with the demonstration of these powerful principles of faith at work.
Decide what it is that you want in every area of your life. Imagine it vividly. Then
act on your desires by actually constructing your personal goal book. Convert
your ideas into concrete realities through this simple exercise. There are no
impossible dreams. And, remember, God has promised to give His children the
desires of their heart.
Glenna Salsbury
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Another Check Mark On The List
One rainy afternoon an inspired 15-year-old boy named John Goddard sat down
at his kitchen table in Los Angeles and wrote three words at the top of a yellow
pad, "My Life List." Under that heading he wrote down 127 goals. Since then he
has completed 108 of those goals. Look at the list of Goddard's goals which
appears below. These are not simple or easy goals. They include climbing the
world's major mountains, exploring vast waterways, running a mile in five
minutes, reading the complete works of Shakespeare and reading the entire
Encyclopedia Britannica.
Explore:
1. Nile River
2. Amazon River
3. Congo River
4. Colorado River
5. Yangtze River, China
6. Niger River
7. Orinoco River, Venezuela
8. Rio Coco, Nicaragua Study Primitive Cultures In:
9. The Congo
10. New Guinea
11. Brazil
12. Borneo
13. The Sudan (John was nearly buried alive in a sandstorm.)
14. Australia
15. Kenya
16. The Philippines
17. Tanganyika (now Tanzania)
18. Ethiopia
19. Nigeria
20. Alaska
Climb
21. Mount Everest
22. Mount Aconcagua, Argentina
23. Mount McKinley
24. Mount Huascaran, Peru
25. Mount Kilimanjaro
26. Mount Ararat, Turkey
27. Mount Kenya
28. Mount Cook, New Zealand
29. Mount Popocatepetl, Mexico
30. The Matterhorn
31. Mount Rainer
32. Mount Fuji
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33. Mount Vesuvius
34. Mount Bromo, Java
35. Grand Tetons
36. Mount Baldy, California
37. Carry out careers in medicine and exploration (Studied premed and treats
illnesses among primitive tribes)
38. Visit every country in the world (30 to go)
39. Study Navaho and Hopi Indians
40. Learn to fly a plane
41. Ride horse in Rose Parade
Photograph:
42. Iguacu Falls, Brazil
43. Victoria Falls, Rhodesia (Chased by a warthog in the process)
44. Sutherland Falls, New Zealand
45. Yosemite Falls
46. Niagara Falls
47. Retrace travels of Marco Polo and Alexander the Great
Explore Underwater:
48. Coral reefs of Florida
49. Great Barrier Reef, Australia (Photographed a 300-pound clam)
50. Red Sea
51.
Fiji Islands
52. The Bahamas
53. Explore Okefenokee Swamp and the Everglades
Visit:
54. North and South Poles
55. Great Wall of China
56. Panama and Suez Canals
57. Easter Island
58. The Galapagos Islands
59. Vatican City (Saw the pope)
60. The Taj Mahal
61. The Eiffel Tower
62. The Blue Grotto
63. The Tower of London
64. The Leaning Tower of Pisa
65. The Sacred Well of Chichen-Itza, Mexico
66. Climb Ayers Rock in Australia
67. Follow River Jordan from Sea of Galilee to Dead Sea
Swim In:
68. Lake Victoria
69. Lake Superior
70. Lake Tanganyika
71. Lake Titicaca, South America
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72. Lake Nicaragua
Accomplish:
73. Become an Eagle Scout
74. Dive in a submarine
75. Land on and take off from an aircraft carrier
76. Fly in a blimp, hot air balloon and glider
77. Ride an elephant, camel, ostrich and bronco
78. Skin dive to 40 feet and hold breath two and a half minutes underwater
79. Catch a ten-pound lobster and a ten-inch abalone
80. Play flute and violin
81. Type 50 words a minute
82. Take a parachute jump
83. Learn water and snow skiing
84. Go on a church mission
85. Follow the John Muir Trail
86. Study native medicines and bring back useful ones
87. Bag camera trophies of elephant, lion, rhino, cheetah, cape buffalo and whale
88. Learn to fence
89. Learn jujitsu
90. Teach a college course
91. Watch a cremation ceremony in Bali
92. Explore depths of the sea
93. Appear in a Tarzan movie (He now considers this an irrelevant boyhood
dream)
94. Own a horse, chimpanzee, cheetah, ocelot and coyote (Yet to own a chimp or
cheetah)
95. Become a ham radio operator
96. Build own telescope
97. Write a book (On Nile trip)
98. Publish an article in National Geographic Magazine
99. High jump five feet
100. Broad jump 15 feet
101. Run a mile in five minutes
102. Weigh 175 pounds stripped (still does)
103. Perform 200 sit-ups and 20 pull-ups
104. Learn French, Spanish and Arabic
105. Study dragon lizards on Komodo Island (Boat broke down within 20 miles of
island)
106. Visit birthplace of Grandfather Sorenson in Denmark
107. Visit birthplace of Grandfather Goddard in England
108. Ship aboard a freighter as a seaman
109. Read the entire Encyclopedia Britannia (Has read extensive parts in each
volume)
110. Read the Bible from cover to cover
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111. Read the works of Shakespeare, Plato, Aristotle, Dickens, Thoreau, Poe,
Rousseau, Bacon, Hemingway, Twain, Burroughs, Conrad, Talmage, Tolstoi,
Longfellow, Keats, Whittier and Emerson (Not every work of each)
112. Become familiar with the compositions of Bach, Beethoven, Debussy, Ibert,
Mendelssohn, Lalo, Rimski-Korsakov, Respighi, Liszt, Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky,
Toch, Tschaikovsky, Verdi
113. Become proficient in the use of a plane, motorcycle, tractor, surfboard, rifle,
pistol, canoe, microscope, football basketball, bow and arrow, lariat and
boomerang
114. Compose music
115. Play Clair de Lune on the piano
116. Watch fire-walking ceremony (In Bali and Surinam)
117. Milk a poisonous snake (Bitten by a diamond back during a photo session)
118. Light a match with a 22 rifle
119. Visit a movie studio
120. Climb Cheops' pyramid
121. Become a member of the Explorers' Club and the Adventurers' Club
122. Learn to play polo
123. Travel through the Grand Canyon on foot and by boat
124. Circumnavigate the globe (four times)
125. Visit the moon ("Some day if God wills")
126. Marry and have children (Has five children)
127. Live to see the 21st Century (He will be 75)
John Goddard
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Look Out, Baby, I'm Your Love Man
It is better to be prepared for an opportunity and not have one than to have an
opportunity and not be prepared.
Whitney Young, Jr.
Les Brown and his twin brother were adopted by Mamie Brown, a kitchen worker
and maid, shortly after their birth in a poverty-stricken Miami neighborhood.
Because of his hyperactivity and nonstop jabber, Les was placed in special
education classes for the learning disabled in grade school and throughout high
school. Upon graduation, he became a city sanitation worker in Miami Beach. But
he had a dream of being a disc jockey. At night he would take a transistor radio to
bed where he listened to the local jive-talking deejays. He created an imaginary
radio station in his tiny room with its torn vinyl flooring. A hairbrush served as his
microphone as he practiced his patter, introducing records to his ghost listeners.
His mother and brother could hear him through the thin walls and would shout at
him to quit flapping his jaws and go to sleep. But Les didn't listen to them. He
was wrapped up in his own world, living a dream. One day Les boldly went to the
local radio station during his lunch break from mowing grass for the city. He got
into the station manager's office and told him he wanted to be a disc jockey.
The manager eyed this disheveled young man in overalls and a straw hat and
inquired, "Do you have any background in broadcasting?" Les replied, "No, sir, I
don't."
"Well, son, I'm afraid we don't have a job for you then."
Les thanked him politely and left. The station manager assumed that he had seen
the last of this young man. But he underestimated the depth of Les Brown's
commitment to his goal. You see, Les had a higher purpose than simply wanting
to be a disc jockey. He wanted to buy a nicer house for his adoptive mother,
whom he loved deeply. The disc jockey job was merely a step toward his goal.
Mamie Brown had taught Les to pursue his dreams, so he felt sure that he would
get a job at that radio station in spite of what the station manager had said.
And so Les returned to the station every day for a week, asking if there were any
job openings. Finally the station manager gave in and took him on as an errand
boy—at no pay. At first, he fetched coffee or picked up lunches and dinner for the
deejays who could not leave the studio.
Eventually his enthusiasm for their work won him the confidence of the disc
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jockeys who would send him in their Cadillacs to pick up visiting celebrities such
as the Temptations and Diana Ross and the Supremes. Little did any of them
know that young Les did not have a driver's license.
Les did whatever was asked of him at the station—and more. While hanging out
with the deejays, he taught himself their hand movements on the control panel.
He stayed in the control rooms and soaked up whatever he could until they asked
him to leave. Then, back in his bedroom at night, he practiced and prepared
himself for the opportunity that he knew would present itself.
One Saturday afternoon while Les was at the station, a deejay named Rock was
drinking while on the air. Les was the only other person in the building, and he
he
walked back and forth in front of the window in Rock's booth. As he prowled, he
said to himself. "Drink, Rock, drink!" Les was hungry, and he was ready. He would
have run down the street for more booze if Rock had asked. When the phone
rang, Les pounced on it. It was that station manager, as he knew it would be.
"Les, this is Mr. Klein."
"Yes," said Les. "I know."
"Les, I don't think Rock can finish his program."
"Yes sir, I know."
"Would you call one of the other deejays to come in and take over?"
"Yes, sir. I sure will."
But when Les hung up the telephone, he said to himself, "Now, he must think I'm
crazy."
Les did dial the telephone, but it wasn't to call in another deejay. He called his
mother first, and then his girlfriend. "You all go out on the front porch and turn up
the radio because I'm about to come on the air!" he said.
He waited about 15 minutes before he called the general manager. "Mr. Klein, I
can't find nobody," Les said.
Mr. Klein then asked, "Young man, do you know how to work the controls in the
studio?"
"Yes sir," replied Les.
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Les darted into the booth, gently moved Rock aside and sat down at the
turntable. He was ready. And he was hungry. He flipped on the microphone switch
and said,
"Look out! This is me, LB, triple P—Les Brown, Your Platter Playing Poppa. There
were none before me and there will be none after me. Therefore, that makes me
the one and only. Young and single and love to mingle. Certified, bona fide,
indubitably qualified to bring you satisfaction, a whole lot of action. Look out,
baby, I'm your lo-o-ove man!"
Because of his preparation, Les was ready. He wowed the audience and his
general manager. From that fateful beginning, Les went on to a successful career
in broadcasting, politics, public speaking and television.
Jack Canfield
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Willing To Pay The Price
When my wife Maryanne and I were building our Greenspoint Mall hair salon 13
years ago, a Vietnamese fellow would stop by each day to sell us doughnuts. He
spoke hardly any English, but he was always friendly and through smiles and sign
language, we got to know each other. His name was Le Van Vu.
During the day Le worked in a bakery and at night he and his wife listened to
audio tapes to learn English. I later learned that they slept on sacks full of
sawdust on the floor of the back room of the bakery.
In Vietnam the Van Vu family was one of the wealthiest in Southeast Asia. They
owned almost one-third of North Vietnam, including huge holdings in industry and
real estate. However, after his father was brutally murdered, Le moved to South
Vietnam with his mother, where he went to school and eventually became a
lawyer.
Like his father before him, Le prospered. He saw an opportunity to construct
buildings to accommodate the ever-expanding American presence in South
Vietnam and soon became one of the most successful builders in the country.
On a trip to the North, however, Le was captured by the North Vietnamese and
thrown into prison for three years. He escaped by killing five soldiers and made
his way back to South Vietnam where he was arrested again. The South
Vietnamese government had assumed he was a "plant" from the North.
After serving time in prison, Le got out and started a fishing company, eventually
becoming the largest canner in South Vietnam.
When Le learned that the U.S. troops and embassy personnel were about to pull
out of his country, he made a life-changing decision. He took all of the gold he
had hoarded, loaded it aboard one of his fishing vessels and sailed with his wife
out to the American ships in the harbor. He then exchanged all his riches for safe
passage out of Vietnam to the Philippines, where he and his wife were taken into
a refugee camp.
After gaining access to the president of the Philippines, Le convinced him to make
one of his boats available for fishing and Le was back in business again. Before he
left the Philippines two years later en route for America (his ultimate dream), Le
had successfully developed the entire fishing industry in the Philippines.
But en route to America, Le became distraught and depressed about having to
start over again with nothing. His wife tells of how she found him near the railing
of the ship, about to jump overboard.
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"Le," she told him, "if you do jump, whatever will become of me? We've been
together for so long and through so much. We can do this together." It was all the
encouragement that Le Van Vu needed.
When he and his wife arrived in Houston in 1972, they were flat broke and spoke
no English. In Vietnam, family takes care of family, and Le and his wife found
themselves ensconced in the back room of his cousin's bakery in the Greenspoint
Mall. We were building our salon just a couple of hundred feet away.
Now, as they say, here comes the "message" part of this story: Le's cousin
offered both Le and his wife jobs in the bakery. After taxes, Le would take home
$175 per week, his wife $125. Their total annual income, in other words, was
$15,600. Further, his cousin offered to sell them the bakery whenever they could
come up with a $30,000 down payment. The cousin would finance the remainder
with a note for $90,000.
Here's what Le and his wife did: Even with a weekly income of $300, they decided
to continue to live in the back room. They kept clean by taking sponge baths for
two years in the mall's restrooms. For two years their diet consisted almost
entirely of bakery goods. Each year, for two years, they lived on a total, that's
right, a total of $600, saving $30,000 for the down payment.
Le later explained his reasoning, "If we got ourselves an apartment, which we
could afford on $300 per week, we'd have to pay the rent. Then, of course, we'd
have to buy furniture. Then we'd have to have transportation to and from work,
so that meant we'd have to buy a car. Then we'd have to buy gasoline for the car
as well as insurance. Then we'd probably want to go places in the car, so that
meant we'd need to buy clothes and toiletries. So I knew that if we got that
apartment, we'd never get our $30,000 together."
Now, if you think you've heard everything about Le, let me tell you, there's more:
After he and his wife had saved the $30,000 and bought the bakery, Le once
again sat down with his wife for a serious chat. They still owed $90,000 to his
cousin, he said, and as difficult as the past two years had been, they had to
remain living in that back room for one more year.
I'm proud to tell you that in one year, my friend and mentor Le Van Vu and his
wife, saving virtually every nickel of profit from the business, paid off the $90,000
note, and in just three years, owned an extremely profitable business free and
clear.
Then, and only then, the Van Vus went out and got their first apartment. To this
day, they continue to save on a regular basis, live on an extremely small
percentage of their income, and, of course, always pay cash for any of their
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purchases.
Do you think that Le Van Vu is a millionaire today? I am happy to tell you, many
times over. John McCormack