Salesman Bill

佚名/Anonymous

二十年前，当我们生第一个孩子的时候，我和丈夫约翰就商量好了，我要在家里做全职妈妈，所以我们就得只靠一个人的工资生活了。为了还抵押贷款和学生贷款，我们节衣缩食。主食我们常吃通心粉和奶酪，我们甚至没有再去看过电影。

我们剪下商家的优惠券，并且买打折的商品。在星期二，廉价旧货店出售“新”商品；星期三，要过期的肉类和奶类商品会半折出售。星期六，我们会赶在别人之前去买私人摆在门前要出售的商品。但是，对于这一切我早就习惯了，因为我从小就过着缺吃少穿的生活。所以为了摆脱贫困我早就设立了现实的目标，即上大学，牢固的婚姻，和一份事业。这些我都做到了。但是，我仍然不能想象我的生活会不如意。我的信仰更像是安全网，而不能成为我企盼美好生活的理由。

那天的一个电话让我的生活有了转机。“谢利吗？我是比尔·波特。”我听到电话那端的声音。比尔是一名上门推销的推销员。我上高中的时候，替他送过货。“你愿不愿意再回来为我送货？每周工作几天。”我和约翰商量好，就去给比尔打工了。

你一看到比尔，就会注意到他不同寻常的外表。他的耳朵特别大，他走路时，弯着腰，拖着步子，他的右手蜷成一个拳头。他说话速度非常慢。当我还是个少女的时候，我不好意思提起这些事情，但是，我再次为他工作后的一天，我问起了这个问题。

“比尔，你患有多发性硬化这类疾病吗？”我问。“我患有脑瘫。”他如实地回答。我想他知道我谈及这个问题会很紧张。“但是，你怎么会得这种病，它会恶化吗？”“在我出生时，医生用钳子伤到了我的大脑，我的病永远都不会恶化，但也不会好转。但是，这并不影响我完成我决心要做的事情。”

比尔的乐观精神使我很吃惊，尤其和我的悲观情绪形成鲜明对比。他感激他的父母，因为是他们教导他要有坚定的信念。他们努力培养他上公立学校。毕业后，他父亲对他说：“去找工作吧。”不能说他的父亲苛刻，而恰恰说明他们不想娇惯儿子。相反，他们坚持比尔可以做任何他想做的事情，只要他有决心，他们绝不会让他放弃。比尔获得沃特金集团公司的一次面试机会。这个公司的推销员要上门推销家用药物和香料。比尔对面试官说：“我天生就会推销，任何东西，只要我信任它，我就可以推销出去。您不妨给我个机会让我试试看。”

这位面试官给了他一份工作——不过，是试用。他一家一家地敲门，被一次又一次地拒绝，然后，开始有人买比尔的东西。沿着他的销售路线，比尔每天工作八个小时，有时时间会更长。这样，他成为公司整个西北地区的顶级销售人员。当然，这很不容易，每天早晨4点45分，他的闹钟就会把他叫醒，而他要坐7点20分开往市区的公交车。比尔需要充足的准备时间，“外表很重要。”他说。每天早晨，他都穿干净的袜子，熨得平平整整的裤子，还有白色的衬衫。他不扣袖口上的扣子，松松地系上鞋带，把领带放在手提包里，在他要换车的车站附近，有一家旅馆，在那儿的几个朋友会帮他扣上袖口上的扣子、系好鞋带、打好领带。然后，他就走上大街挨家挨户地推销，他对自己说：“下一个客户肯定会说‘是’的。”更重要的是，比尔相信他们最终会同意购买他的商品。

接下来，我又生了几个孩子，但我没有放弃为比尔打工。约翰的工资也涨了，但是我们继续过着节衣缩食的生活。说实在的，我仍没有办法。我仍然为将来的生活担忧，我的信条仍然是要为将来买意外保险，而不是积极地应对现实的生活。而比尔坚持他自己的信仰，每天早晨起来都对生活充满最美好的希望。我会像比尔一样乐观地生活吗？甚至，我的丈夫受我的影响，活得都非常沮丧。一个周末，约翰想去看电影，“我们可以去看7点钟的那场。”“亲爱的，我们为什么不白天去看呢？”我问。“那样会便宜些。”“但是，我们买得起电影票。”我知道约翰是对的，但是，我总是为将来担忧。这种担忧从孩童时就产生了，根深蒂固，我一直都无法摆脱它的束缚。

冬季的一天，天气预报说波特兰会有大风暴，比尔当然很高兴，“这样的天气对一名上门推销员是非常有利的，”他说，“因为人们都待在家里。”因此他把商品捆起来，去挨家挨户地推销，他一直工作到完成销售任务。但是，这时，由于天气原因造成的糟糕的路况，公交车停运了，他不得不搭便车回家。但是，他发现他家门前的那条车道太滑了，他多次摔倒多次爬起。最后，他手脚并用，终于爬着摸到了家门口。然而，他心里特别高兴，为那天圆满的工作高兴。第二天上午，他把发生的事告诉了我。可能是由于长时间为比尔工作，受到他乐观精神的影响，我不再为将来的生活发愁了，而是开始享受生活。

我为比尔工作二十年了。有时，我以前的焦虑感还会袭击我。但每当这时，我就会想起我的朋友比尔在他家门前结满冰的车道上爬行的情景，我听到他说：“谢利，生活中没有阻碍，只有挑战。”当我向他学习时，我就会放松了，会感到自由。是的，比尔最终让我看到希望，看到上帝为我们打开的机会，每次都有一扇门。现在，我们家去看电影都买全价的电影票，而且我们还舍得花钱买爆米花了。

When my husband， John， and I had our first child 20 years ago， we agreed I'd be a stay-at-home mom. That meant we have to make do on a single income. We scrimped and saved so we could keep with the mortgage and our student loans. We ate a lot of macaroni and cheese dinners. We even didn't go to the movies anymore.

I clipped coupons and tracked down sales. Tuesday was when the thrift stores put out their "new" merchandise. Wednesday was when the meat and dairy section goods were marked at half price just prior to their expiration date. Saturday morning meant getting to the garage sales before anyone else. But none of this was unfamiliar. I grew up wanting. So I had set my sights on realistic goals that would get me out of poverty： a college education， a solid marriage and a career. I'd had done it all， yet I still couldn't imagine things would never go right for me. My faith felt more like a safety net than a reason to have hope for a better life.

Things took a turn one day when I got a phone call."Shelly？ This is Bill Porter，" the voice on the end of the line said. Bill was a door-to-door salesman I'd delivered packages for in high school. "Would you be interested in coming back a couple of days a week to fill orders for me？" I talked about it with John， and then went to work for Bill.

The first thing you notice about Bill is his unusual appearance. His ears are very large. He walks—or rather， shuffles—stooped over. His right hand is balled up almost into a fist. And he takes a long time to get his words out. When I was a teen I was too shy to ask about it. But one day after I started to work for him again I posed the question.

"Bill， do you have MS or something like that？" I asked. "I have cerebral palsy，" he answered matter-of-factly. I think he knew I was nervous talking about it."But… what does that mean？ How did you get it？ Will it get worse？" "The doctor's forceps damaged my brain at my birth. My condition will never get any worse. But it won't get any better， either. It doesn't stop me from accomplishing whatever I set my mind to."

Bill's optimism amazed me， especially in contrast to my own tendency toward pessimism. He gave credits to his parents， who taught him a strong faith. They fought to get him into public school； after he graduated， his father told him， "Get a job." He wasn't being harsh. It's just that they'd never coddled Bill； instead， they had always insisted he could do anything he set his mind to and they never let him give up. Bill got an interview with Watkins Incorporated， a company whose salesmen peddle home remedies and spices door to door. Bill told the director， "Selling is in my blood. It almost doesn't matter what the product is， as long as I believe in it. Give me a chance and you'll see."

The director gave Bill a job—on a trial basis. He knocked on door after door and heard no after no. Then Bill started making sales. He walked his route eight hours a day， or more， and became the company's top salesman in the entire Northwest. It wasn't easy. Every morning， Bill's alarm went off at 4：45 a.m. His bus downtown left at 7：20 a.m. Bill needed all that time because he doesn't like to dress in a rush. "Appearance is essential，" he said. Each morning he put on clean socks， pressed trousers and fresh white shirt. He would leave his cuffs unbuttoned， his wingtips loosely tied， and his tie in the briefcase. Some friends at a hotel near where he made a bus transfer attended to those loose ends. Bill would hit the streets， knocking on every single door， telling himself， "The next customer will say yes." The key is， Bill believes they'll all say yes eventually.

I kept working for Bill even after I had a few more children. John was making more money， but I continued to scrimp and save. Honestly， it had become a compulsion. I still went through life with a sense of foreboding. Faith was still an insurance policy against disaster rather than a way to meet life head-on. Bill used his faith every day， getting out of bed and expecting the best. Would I ever look at life that way？ Even my husband was frustrated with me. One weekend John wanted to go to a movie. "We can catch the seven o'clock show." "Honey， can't we go to the matinee？" I asked. "It's cheaper." "We can afford it." He was right， but I couldn't stop worrying about money and the future. It all stemmed from my childhood， and I'd never be able to overcome that.

One winter day a storm was forecast for Portland. Of course to Bill the weather report was good news. "Perfect for a door-to-door salesman，" he said. "Everyone's home！" So he bundled up and made his rounds until he had made his quota. But then， the buses had stopped running because the roads were so bad. He had to hitchhike home， only to discover the steep driveway leading to his front door was a sheet of ice. He tried to get up it again and again， but kept falling down. Finally he got down on his hands and knees and crawled to the front door thoroughly satisfied with his day's work. He told me about it the next morning. It was as if the cumulative affect of working with Bill and his optimism sank in. I wanted to stop worrying about life and start enjoying it.

It's been 20 years now that I've worked for Bill. Once in a while those old worries start in on me. It is then I think about my friend Bill crawling up his icy driveway. I hear him saying， "There are no obstacles， Shelly. Only challenges." When I follow his example， I'm able to let go and feel free. Yes， Bill Porter finally got me looking forward to the opportunities God opens for us， one door at a time. And these days when my family goes to the movies we see the full-priced show—and splurge on popcorn.