The giant not-a-zit remained on my nose. I prayed and fretted about it for a while， but finally I realized that the bright red bulb on my nose was no more of a distraction than my lack of limbs. If people aren’t willing to talk to me， that is their loss， I decided.
If I caught someone staring at it， I made a joke. I told them I was growing an extra nose to sell on the black market. When people saw that I could laugh at myself， they laughed with me and empathized. After all， who hasn‘t had a pimple？ Even Brad Pitt has pimples.
Sometimes， through our own doing， we make little problems big by taking them way too seriously. Having a pimple is part of the deal. We are all perfectly imperfect human beings， some of us maybe more than others， but we all have our flaws and our shortcomings. It’s important to not take every little wart or wrinkle too seriously because one day you will have something truly serious go wrong， and then what will you do？ So stand prepared to laugh at life‘s little knocks on the heads and bumps on the nose.
Laughter has been shown to reduce stress by releasing endorphin hormones， the body’s natural relaxant， boosting your immune system and improving your blood flow while also increasing oxygen to the brain. Not bad， eh？ Studies have also shown that laughter makes you more attractive. A double bonus！
BEAUTY IS BLIND
Do you know what is really laughable？ Vanity is hilarious， because just as soon as you think you are looking good and sexy and worthy of the cover of People magazine， along comes a life lesson to make you realize that beauty really is in the eyes of the beholder， and what is on the outside is not nearly as important as what is on the inside.
Recently I met a young Australian girl who is blind. We were doing a Fun Run to raise money to provide medical equipment for needy kids. This girl was about five years old. Her mum introduced her to me after the event. The mother explained to her that I‘d been born with no arms and no legs.
Blind people sometimes ask to touch my body so they can comprehend what someone without limbs is like. I don’t mind it， so when this girl asked her mother if she could “see” for herself， I gave permission. Her mum guided her hand over my shoulders and over my little left foot. The girl‘s reaction was interesting. She was very calm as she felt my empty shoulder sockets and my strange little foot. Then when she put her hands on my face， she screamed！
It was hilarious.
“What？ My beautiful face scares you？” I asked， laughing.
“No！ It’s that hair all over you！ Are you a wolf？”
She had never felt a beard before. When she touched my stubble， she freaked out. She told her mother that it was sad I was so hairy！ This girl had her own idea of what was attractive， and obviously my beard was not on the list. I wasn‘t offended. I was glad to be reminded that beauty is definitely in the eyes—and touch—of the beholder.
CELEBRATE YOUR YOU-NIQUENESS
We humans are a silly bunch. We spend half our time trying to fit in with the crowd and the other half trying to stand out from it. Why is that？ I’m guilty of it， and I‘m sure you are too， because it seems to be universal， part of our human nature. Why can’t we be comfortable with ourselves， knowing that we are God‘s creations， made to reflect His glory？
As a schoolboy， I was desperate to fit in， just as most teens are. Have you ever noticed that even the teens who want to be “different” usually hang out with kids who dress， talk， and act just like them？ What’s with that， mate？ How can you be an outsider if everyone you hang with wears the same black clothing， black nail polish， black lipstick， and black eyeliner？ Doesn‘t that make you an insider instead？
Tattoos and piercings used to be a rebellious statement of rugged individualism. Now soccer moms in the grocery have tattoos and piercings. There has to be a better way to celebrate your individuality than following the same fads and trends as every mum at the mall， doesn’t there？
I‘ve adopted an attitude that might work for you. I’ve decided that my beauty lies in my differences， in the fact that I‘m not like everybody else. I’m uniquely me. Nobody will ever call me “average” or “just another guy.” I may not stand tall in a crowd， but I definitely stand out.
That attitude has served me well because I often draw strange reactions from children as well as adults when they see me for the first time. Kids tend to reckon I‘m from another planet or I’m some sort of monster. Teens tend to have lurid imaginations so they assume I was maimed by an ax murderer or something equally gruesome. Adults leap to strange conclusions too. Often they suspect that I‘m a mannequin or a Muppet.
Once when I was visiting relatives in Canada， they took me trick-or-treating for the very first time. They found a big scary old man mask that covered my entire body， and then they carried me door to door. At first we didn’t get much reaction from people， until we figured out that they didn‘t think I was real. We finally realized this when a woman dropped some of my favorite lollies in my bag， and I said， “Thank you！ Trick or treat！”
The woman shrieked and jumped backward. “There’s a child in there？” she screamed. “I thought you were carrying a doll！”
Well， I am pretty cute， I thought.
When I‘m feeling frisky， I’ve been known to take full advantage of my uniqueness. I love to cruise around shopping malls with my cousins and friends. One day a few years ago we were in a mall in Australia when we spotted a window display for Bonds underwear， which is the Down Under version of Haines or Jockey， a briefs brand that has been around for a long， long time.
The male mannequin was wearing a pair of Bonds “tighty whitey” underwear. He had a body just like mine： all head and torso， no limbs—and a nice six-pack of abs. I happened to be wearing my own Bond brand drawers， so my cousins and I decided that I too could serve as a window model. We went into the store. My cousins hoisted me into the window display case. I then took up a position next to the mannequin.
