Chicken Soup for the Soul 20th Anniversary Edition (29 page)

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-a-car places are all out of vans. They’re just not available.”

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? We’ll pay you 100 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 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

I’ve got a theory that if you give 100 percent all of the time, somehow things will work out in the end.

~Larry Bird

T
he 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 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 every day — 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.”

The warden wrote a check.

~Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen

Know, then, whatever cheerful and serene

Supports the mind supports the body too.

~John Armstrong

E
leven-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.