He walked by my tradeshow booth in Rio de Janeiro, his stride clearly compromised by Cerebral Palsy. I watched as he made his way through the crowded corridor towards the escalator. He reached the top of the moving stairs, and was made to wait as at least six people pushed their way in front of him. Eventually he stepped onto the escalator, I watched as he rode downward and out of sight.
It struck me that no one in that crowded corridor had acknowledged him. Nor did those who rushed in front of him. Once on the escalator he stood silently in his descent surrounded by the busy buzz of show attendees. Yet it was as though he stood completely alone.
The Invisible Man.
Though I never saw him again during the event, I see him in my mind’s eye stepping on that escalator. And I imagine how bright his day could have been if someone would simply have said hello and talked to him for a moment.
And I made myself a promise not to let others be invisible to me.
