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Nancy Mitchell

The Yes Man

Today’s story is about Jackson and how he learns to live.

Jackson is a yes man. At an early age, he learns to agree with his overbearing mother, who make him do tedious chores, like clean the window sills with a toothpick, dust and wash the blinds daily, and wax the floor under the beds daily. These chores are his mother’s way of keeping him busy, so he doesn't get into trouble. Jackson hates these chores, but he soon learns that if he doesn’t go along with his mother, his father will beat him with a belt. He hates that more than anything. After the last wallop that left sores for several days, he always says “yes” to whatever he is asked. He no longer questions or gives thought to his feelings. Given what is expected of him at home, he has come to realize that his feelings are not important, pleasing others is. That’s why he does what he is told and doesn’t give his feelings a second thought.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do that.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll get it done.”

“Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”

Regardless of the task, Jackson is the one his employer calls on to do the dirtiest and sometimes dangerous jobs at the lowest pay because he always says, “Yes.” They know they can rely on Jackson, whose slouched shoulders show a man appearing older than his years. Hair uncombed with a shadow of whiskers across an unshaven face, wearing wrinkled, Jackson’s clothes are stained and frayed at the seams. The one grooming habit that keeps Jackson socially acceptable is he faithfully bathes. He also arrives at work earlier than anyone else, never missing a day, and often works past the hours he is paid for. Yet, he never complains. This is life as he knows it, until one day before his 40th birthday things change.

On this day, Jackson is climbing a ladder that doesn't have the proper safety equipment. This becomes apparent as the ladder buckles under his weight, causing Jackson to fall onto the cement floor. He is knocked unconscious. While unconscious, he finds himself in a place filled with light. Is this heaven? Surprisingly, he isn't afraid as he continues to look around, hoping to see another form of life. After several minutes, he stops looking, rationalizing that this must be all there is for him to see. If I’m dead, this could get boring. What am I to do with myself day after day? His thoughts are interrupted by a voice.

“You won’t get bored! There's more life here than you've ever known!”

The voice speaks inside his head!

“I have a voice inside my head?”

“Yes!”

“I must be mad!”

“No, you are now listening."

“Listening? There isn’t anything else for me to do but listen!”

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Wonderful? I’m talking to a voice inside my head! That’s crazy!”

“No, you’re talking to your inner voice that you never listen to!”

“My inner voice!” Jackson asks incredulously.

“Yes! I'm always here. You just haven’t listened!”

“I get a head injury and I wake up to a voice!” Jackson quips, rubbing his head.

“Hitting your head is the best thing that could have happened to you—figuratively speaking. Now, you are listening!” The voice tells Jackson jubilantly.

"Before the head injury, how could I listen? I didn't know you existed?”

“I know. I gave you intuition, nudging you to a wonderful outcome, you didn't listen!”

“This is nuts!” Jackson declares. “I’m talking to a voice inside my head!”

“You’re not nuts. You’re finally awake.”

“I beg your pardon, but I wake up every day.”

“No. You think you wake up everyday, but all you are doing is reliving yesterday. “

“Reliving yesterday! This is insane!”

“You’re right! Reliving yesterday is insane because you’re barely scratching the surface of life!"

“How do you know? You're just a voice in my head!”

“I am the voice that connects you to the divine within you, if you listen!”

“The divine! I’m a janitor. There is nothing divine about me.”

“That’s where you are wrong. You are a child of God. That makes you divine. “

“Ok. I am a child of God, but I work as a janitor. That’s who I am.”

“That’s the work you do, but that is not who you are. You are much more than that.”

“How can I be more than what I know? If God wants me to be more, why doesn’t he tell me?

“He does. He gives you me!”

“Ho! Ho! Ho! Very funny! He gives you to me!”

"That's right!”

“But, I never knew you existed–untiil now.”

“You would have known had you listened, but you were too busy pleasing everyone else.”

“Pleasing everyone else? I’m doing my job!”

“You’re doing a job, but you are not expressing the most important person.”

“Who?”

”You!”

“Me!

“Yes. You”

Jackson shakes his head, confused about what he’s just heard.

“I know you said I’m a child of God, but I don't understand what that has to do with anything?”

“It’s got everything to do with everything! You’ve got talents –unused talents that you have not expressed —yet! You have a treasure inside you!"

“I have?” Jackson asks, suddenly feeling like a small child, hearing there's a Santa Claus.

“Yes!”

Jackson shakes his head in disbelief, uncertain what he is hearing.

“Now that you are awake, you can express your talent and be more.”

“I can?” Jackson responds, wondering if what he has heard is the truth.

“It’s the truth!” The voice quips hearing his thoughts.

Jackson pauses, absorbing what he has heard.

“I have a treasure inside me?”

“Yes! And now you can express it.”

“I don't have any treasure –or talent. There’s nothing special about me.”

“Oh, yes there is! Let me ask you what is something that you love?”

“I don't love anything–really.”

“Yes, you do! You've forgotten. Remember when you were a child you used to whittle?”

“That was years ago!”

“Remember how you felt when you whittled that whistle?”

“Of course I remember!” His eyes look like a jack o'lantern. 

“That’s a talent.”

“Whittling wood and making whistles?” 

“Yes! You can make other things too. That takes talent.”

“It’s such a simple thing—or was. Nothing special about it.”

“Not everyone can make things out of wood. You can. That's a craft to be proud of.”

“Yeah, well that’s when I was a kid. That's not something I can do now.”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t whittled wood in a long time. I may have lost that skill.”

“It can come back to you, if you apply yourself. How about getting some wood and giving it a go?”

At that moment, the white room fades to the face of a nurse, taking his vitals. 

“Good to see you’ve returned to us. You got quite a knock, but you’ll heal.”The nurse tells him, as the doctor checks his chart.

“Jackson, it's my understanding that you've never missed a day of work.”

Jackson nods.

"You won’t be working for several days, but will remain here for observation. Head injuries can be tricky, and why I want to make sure you have fully recovered before you leave. Your employer is covering the bill,so no worries there. I’ll be back to see how you're doing. Meanwhile, get lots of rest.”

After the hospital staff leave, Jackson closes his eyes, remembering the conversation he had earlier. Wood carving. I wonder if I can still do that?  Once asleep, Jackson sees himself whittling a wooden horse. When he wakes up, he wonders if he can get a piece of wood. 

When the nurse comes in, he asks her if the hospital has art supplies, telling her he would love a stick of wood, so he can whittle. 

“I'm sorry, sir, but I can’t give you a knife to carve this wood. It's against hospital policy.”

Jackson nods understanding. Night after night,  he dreams of whittling this horse, determined that once he gets home he will make it. On the day he is released from the hospital, Jackson buys the supplies he needs to make this horse. Having practiced in his dreams, his hands take to carving the wood immediately. When he’s finished, he looks at his creation. It’s good. Now, what am I going to do with this creation? He asks himself, listening for an intuitive nudge from the voice within him. He gets the urge to paint the horse and place it in a wooden green and red berry wreath. Christmas is coming and it would make a nice tree ornament. Once complete, he continues to make more wooden ornaments. Once he has a dozen or so ornaments, he takes them to a local shop that sells Christmas decorations. He’s hoping the shopkeeper will sell them.

“Did you make these?” The shop keeper asks Jackson.

“Yes.” Jackson replies nervously, wonderful is he is wasting his time trying to sell them.

“These are excellent! I haven’t seen this level of craftsmanship in years. Customers may not want these anymore with all the new stuff on the market, but I’m willing to give them a try, if its all right with you.”

Jackson is elated when the two men shake hands on it.

When Jackson returns a few days later to see how things are going, the shopkeeper is overjoyed with the response, having decorated a Chrstmas tree with Jackson’s ornaments.

He needs more ornaments!

Jackson tells him, he doesn't have horses but he has angels in the car. The shopkeeper is delighted. The angels are added to the Christmas tree. Jackson is delighted to whittle wood, inspired to make a variety of ornaments, which are quickly sold. This new business brings greater prosperity to Jackson, who has become a celebrity in town, as its local woodworking artist. With this new enterprise, Jackson can no longer work extra hours at his job. Initially, his employer is not happy with Jackson’s prosperity because he is no longer the “Yes” man he once was. However, his employer realizes that they are employing a gifted artist, and that’s good for business. Everyone wants to do business with them because of Jackson. Jackson is now recognized by the company as “The Janitor Who Whittles.” Jackson is no longer asked to do mundane or dangerous jobs. In fact, he now has an assistant! Without realizing it, Jackson has brought a lost art that the  community loves with his woodmaking. skills. The still, small voice in his head told him the truth. He is special with an amazing talent; one, that is truly a treasure, which he had no idea he had. Today, he is living a prosperous life, happy that he listens to himself so he can become more of who he really is– a craftsman whose art form is wood.