Opportunity Knocks

Door-to-door. That had been my life as a vacuum salesman for two years. I went into neighborhoods and demonstrated our product by cleaning people’s carpets. If they liked what they saw I did my best to close the deal. The company I worked for was a good one for a family man like me, with a wife and three children to provide for. I was lucky.

Still, I wondered if there was something more I could be doing. Something important. I believe there’s a greater purpose for my life, I thought one afternoon in May as I drove to the next house on my route. I just don’t know what it is.

Maybe I needed to look out for ways to make a difference with the job I had. I challenged myself right then and there. Every house call was an opportunity to put a smile on someone’s face—whether I sold a vacuum cleaner or not. I pulled up in front of a neat brick ranch. At the very least, I’m going to brighten this person’s day. I walked to the front door and rang the bell. A blond woman answered.

I introduced myself and explained my business. “Are you the lady of the house, as they say?” She said her name was Andi, and I gave her my sales pitch. At the end she invited me in to demonstrate. “So, what do you think?” I asked when the demo was over.

She hesitated. I’d been a salesman long enough to know that look. She’d let me in because she was too polite not to. She had no intention of buying a vacuum from me. “It did a great job on the carpet,” she said, “but we can’t afford it now. Medical bills are wiping us out.”

“I totally understand,” I said quickly. I packed up the equipment. Medical bills were more important than vacuums. I turned to go, but something made me stop. Maybe you can make a difference here. I couldn’t imagine how. “Who’s sick?” I blurted.

Andi’s eyes filled with tears. “My boyfriend is in full renal failure. Paul’s been on dialysis waiting for a kidney transplant for three years. If he doesn’t find a donor soon he won’t make it.”

I knew what it was like to lose a loved one. My sister, Cassie, had died when we were both in our teens, and I still couldn’t say I was over my terrible loss. “But can’t he get a kidney from someone in the family?” I asked.

Andi shook her head. “His brothers were all tested, but their blood types don’t match. I tried too, but Paul is O positive.”

“I’m O positive.”

She stared at me. What was she thinking? “Would you consider giving Paul a kidney?” she whispered.

For the first time in all my years as a salesman, words escaped me. I didn’t know what to say. Just give a complete stranger a kidney? That would be crazy! “That’s, uh, something I’d have to think about,” I said. I thanked her for letting me perform the demonstration, and left.

My head was swimming as I walked down the driveway. How could she ask such a thing? Donate my kidney? I didn’t even know the guy.