One fall, I was asked to speak as a keynote for a fund raising banquet in Los Angeles, California. I always love these speaking engagements as I challenge others to engage in living and make a difference in their generation.

The setting was a ballroom with beautiful decorations and hundreds of attendees. After speaking, I went to the back of the room to my book table. I always stand ready to meet new people and sign books. After talking and greeting people for about an hour, a strong jovial voice said to me from behind the table, “Hello, Gail!”

Since gradually losing my eyesight, my other senses have become keen. I knew from the sound of the voice that it was not a tall man. In fact, I assumed it must be from a wheelchair. I turned around to greet my new friend when the loud voice said, “No, look lower.” Without thinking, I quickly said, “could someone please get me a chair?” I wanted to be on the same level as my new pursuer. Not realizing it, my new friend had gone to get me a chair and there I sat ready now to meet the short man with the booming voice.

The gentleman put forth his hand to shake mine and told me his name.  He was fully dressed in a customized suit with a firm hand shake.  He then introduced me to his wife who was by his side. He stated, “I am only 3ft. and 9 inches.” Amazed at my encounter of the first kind I said, “Nice to meet you. What is such a tall man with so much personality doing living in a small body like yours?”

We laughed as he told me about his life, family and house. The only thing adapted to his size was the kitchen and bathroom. He told me that his wife was 4ft. 2 and he loved dancing with her because of where his chin lands. His son is 6ft. 1 in. and their lives seemed normal.

He made me laugh so much I told him he had missed his true calling. He needed to be a comedian and not an accountant.

We spoke for some time with no barrier between us. The other sighted and taller people around us encircled us as we were having such joy in our conversation about our views on life.

He went on a long spiel about the politically correct terms for people his size and the history through the ages of the changes in names. I listened intently, still not sure what his preference would be. Finally, I  asked, “What shall I call you?” . My friend’s choice was to be called a “little person.” However, his dreams, ambition and love for life were massive in size. Living big has nothing to do with your height. Even I can see that now!

Determine today not to overlook anyone.

Was there ever a time you felt overlooked?

When you choose to look past the horizon… the sky is the limit!