There's Only One Answer

“Jim, we’re not sure why, and we’re not sure when, but we do know someday you’ll be totally blind. And there’s not one thing we can do about it.”

Jim Stovall looked from one doctor’s face to another’s. All three specialists nodded gravely. Stovall’s heart sank. That day, the seventeen-year-old was told to come to terms with a harsh reality—the life he loved would change forever.?

As a youngster, Stovall had shown promise in several sports, but held dreams of playing offensive tackle for the Dallas Cowboys. Standing six-foot-four and weighing 118kg / 260lb, he fulfilled all the physical requirements.?

But during a routine physical for high school football, an anomaly was identified. Not only was he declared unfit to play, but he spent 11 months in and out of doctors’ offices and hospitals undergoing tests to figure out what was wrong.

The doctors explained that Stovall’s eyesight simply wasn’t sharp enough for the sports he loved. His first response was to enter a state of extreme denial, pretending he had never received the news.

But soon enough, as the doctors predicted, his vision began to fade.??

For as long he could remember, Stovall had attended church every week with his family. One Sunday he woke up in total despair. Kneeling by his bed, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and delivered a message: “God, if you’re really out there, offer me a sign by the end of today that I have something to live for.”

The state fair, a popular community event, was held later that day in his hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma. Stovall went along and witnessed an exhibition from Olympic Games athletes across various fields, including gymnastics, running and weightlifting.

He left the exhibition hall and strolled down to the arena, where he noticed a large sign for a free concert. Stovall walked to the front of the empty arena and sat in the first row. He thought about being blind, prayed some more, and wept as he considered what a lonely life he would lead.

Meanwhile, behind him, the arena had started to fill. Finally, a voice boomed: “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Ray Charles!” The acclaimed blind musician stood just 12 feet in front of his seat. Watching someone with comparable vision impairments wowing audiences gave Stovall greater hope that there might be some life left inside him.

With a renewed sense of optimism, he opted to attend college after he graduated high school. One day he noticed a school for blind children across the road and, on a whim, walked in and asked if he could help out as a teacher.

The attendant responded, “If you’re serious, we have a kid you can work with one-on-one.”??

“What should I teach him?” Stovall asked.??

“This kid, Christopher, is four years old. He’s totally blind and has a lot of other physical problems. He’ll never learn, grow or develop any more than he already has. What we want you to do is keep him quiet and hidden away so as not to distract the other kids.”?

The attendant also offered two tips:

• First, to keep the boy’s shoes tied so he wouldn’t trip and hurt himself; and
• Second, to keep him away from the stairs.?

The first day, Stovall noticed Christopher was decidedly smaller than other kids his age, and this motivated Stovall to help even more. “Young man, before I leave here—no matter how many days, weeks or months it takes—you’re at least going to learn to tie your shoes and climb those stairs,” he said.?

“No, I can’t,” Christopher replied.??

“Yes you can.”?

The exchange continued, with both holding firm.??

Each afternoon after his classes, Stovall would visit the school for the blind and help Christopher learn to tie his shoes and climb the stairs.??

Several months later, the day he feared most arrived. Stovall woke up to find his vision had deteriorated significantly overnight. Even getting around by himself became extraordinarily difficult, and he could barely deduce the words in his text books.?

Stovall cautiously wandered over to the school of the blind and told them it would be his last day. “I’m going to have to drop out of college, and I can’t volunteer anymore,” he said. “I just can’t make it.”??

Stovall had not realized that Christopher had been dropped off earlier than usual that day, and was sitting outside the office. He could hear the entire conversation.?

Stovall turned and saw the boy, told him he was leaving, and wished him well for the future. “I’m going to have to drop out of college, and I can’t volunteer anymore,” he said again. “I just can’t make it.”?

“Yes you can,” Christopher said.??

“No I can’t,” Stovall replied.?

“Yes you can.”?

“No I can’t.”?

Finally, Stovall attempted to explain why his situation was different—except that with each word he began to feel like a fraud for refusing to take the advice he had offered Christopher for months.

He thought to himself, “Either quit lying to this kid, or get up and do something with your life.”?

Then, as he thought about their respective situations, Stovall reasoned, “You know what? You’re right. Whether in life or business, there are some things worthy of your best effort, even small tasks like tying your shoes, walking up stairs or attending college.”

He looked Christopher in the eye and said, “You keep up your hard work and I promise to be here with you each day to help.”?

Three years later, Stovall graduated from university with two degrees—psychology and sociology—with honors. That week, with what little vision he had left, he saw Christopher climb three flights of stairs, sit on the final step, and tie both of his shoes. It was one of the last things he ever saw, and one of the most profound lessons he ever learned.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Jim Stovall realized: “No matter what the dream inside you is, the answer is always ‘Yes, you can’.”

Onward and upward always,

James Whittaker

PS — In case you missed it: The Gift of Beginner's Mind.

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