Backstory

As a student Physical Therapist in 1977, I volunteered to assist with the UCLA Children’s Amputee and Prosthetics Program. The older MD who welcomed me was the first doctor to counsel the new parents who had just delivered a child missing limbs.  His task was to provide initial information about the road ahead for the child.  The first artificial limb was often fitted the first year, to aid normal movement development, and there is a specific timetable to be followed.  He found, however, that the initial information was not retained, and he was not able to effectively convey anything to allieviate their concerns for their child’s future.  He wondered if the MOST important information could be provided non-verbally, without words.  I asked him to explain how this was possible.

To reply, he told me of his experiences as a door-to-door salesman while in college.  The product was a multi-functional kitchen gimmick, and after work, the salsemen were required to ring a bell at the main office, for each sale they had made.  Most of them were lucky to get 2 or 3 rings-it was not a popular product!  One fellow, tho, often rang 8 or 9 times, and the others couldn’t figure this out–he had a squeeky voice, funny ears, and a cheap suit!  They begged him for his secret, and one day he finally showed it to them.  He produced a varnished and gleaming ebony wood box, and inside was the silly gimmick, resting royally on a fitted bed of saphire velvet, and shinned to a mirror polish.  He would handle it like the Queen’s jewels, and gently hold it a while, before finally allowing it to be touched by his customer, while extolling its virtues.  They couldn’t wait to grab it!

The doctor decided to apply the secret to communicate with the new parents.  He bought a baby doll, and sprayed it gold.  He then practiced holding it in front of a mirror-holding it as tho it were the most precious and valued treasure in the world (this is not a stretch, since new babies are already that).  How would the right hand express that, just so ?  What if this leg were missing…he practiced and perfected each hand, each finger position, to convey the non-verbal message, then tried again with different variations of missing limbs. 

Now, on that first visit, he would just hold the babay, so tenderly as tho it were the crown jewels, the most valuable and sacred child in the universe.  He didn’t talk much about the program.  And this was enough to deliver the message-it’s going to be OK, this child is perfect, and his problems will be overcome with a little help, and how lucky you are to have him…

This powerful lesson remained with me throughout my medical career, and I still hold it as an ideal, to try and see EVERYONE as perfect, precious, and valuable.  It is easy to see your children thru that vision.  Santa doesn’t have to hide the awe he feels with every child’s face.  It’s his job, after all.