Peter Kendal
Special to The Morning Star
Recently I got an e-mail from a friend that I would like to share part of with you. Now I know that you may not have a computer, but you are reading this newspaper so I am putting the story into my own words. I also want to share with you some of the thoughts that arose from my repeated viewing of the short film that was the heart of the e-mail. I hope that hearing the story will make you think, too.
The story begins with a view of a man sitting on a sheet of cardboard at the foot of a set of steps on a street with a sign roughly printed on another sheet of cardboard propped up beside him.
The scene is set in a city centre with great rather old-fashioned buildings and the ground is wet. He is of uncertain years beyond middle age and bare- headed. The sign reads “I’m blind. Please help.” The film continues with shots of young girls laughing among themselves, then returns to the man with many folks walking straight past and only a few passersby dropping a coin on his cardboard sheet. He thanks donors for their gifts and gropes blindly for the small offerings to put them into his collecting tin can but is clearly not getting much money. He sits alone, waiting.
A well-dressed young lady wearing sunglasses and carrying a small case, clearly a business woman, approaches him. She walks past apparently ignoring him, then returns to stand in front of him. She picks up his sign, turns it over and writes something on the clean surface without disclosing what she writes. He feels for her shoes to help him identify her. She props up the new sign, says a brief goodbye and walks away. The man sits wondering what she did, who she was and why she dropped no coins on his cardboard sheet. People continue to walk along the street but now they each stop and drop a coin on his mat before moving on. Soon he has a lot of coins there and gathers them up feverishly to put in his tin can. As he thanks them all he looks pleased but obviously wonders what has changed to make people start acting more generously towards him.
The young lady returns and stops in front of the man. He feels her shoes and recognizes her. Looking up at her he asks her what she did to his sign. She replies that she did not change the purpose of the message but only the wording on it. She smiles at him, drops a coin in his tin can, says goodbye and moves on. The man thanks her and stares after her in her direction as she leaves.
The film ends with a close-up of the rewritten words on his sign. It reads, “It’s a beautiful day and I can’t see it.” These final words appear on the screen, “Change your words. Change your world.”
My rendering of this lovely little film — it is only one and a half minutes long with just over 20 words spoken — cannot do it justice but it affected me strongly. It shows what a small act and a small change of words can do for one person and for many of the people seeing it.
But the whole process must start with two abilities on the part of the person portrayed in the film by the business woman and that person must be YOU. The two abilities are (1) The ability to see something that can be done to make something better than it is, and (2) The ability to do something to make it better. It may take many forms. It can be a big or a little change. It may mean just taking the first step along what may be a long road to get to the end result. I could go on, but you get the idea. To start with it takes no effort and after that whatever it is that you do will not seem like it needs any great effort. And the rewards will be more than you might expect, not in money or goods but in good feelings and respect for YOU, including self-respect.
This all may sound idealistic but give it a try. A kind word to somebody not expecting it is a good start. Say it soon.
Change your words, use them wisely, and you can change both your world and the worlds of others.
Peter Kendal is a freelance writer in Vernon, B.C.
