“Sell seeds and earn this bicycle.”
That ad leapt off the back of a comic book like a superhero. I was nine years old, and while I already had a bicycle—bought used and well-worn—the thought of earning a brand new one was thrilling. The ad showed me exactly how to send in the form and how much money I needed. But one crucial detail was missing: How do you actually start?
I remember it vividly. I carefully packed the seed packets into a shoebox and set out to sell. But instead of knocking on doors in my immediate neighborhood, I ventured one block away—maybe subconsciously thinking strangers would be easier than familiar faces.
I knocked on the first door. An old man answered, unsmiling, and to my nine-year-old eyes, he looked downright mean and scary.
“What do you want?” he barked.
“My name is Tony, and I am selling seeds to earn a bicycle. Would you like to buy some?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“No,” he said flatly—and slammed the door.
I was spooked and confused, my heart racing. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run. But I did neither. I just went home, set the shoebox in a corner of my bedroom, and didn’t want to look at those seeds ever again.
That night, my dad asked, “How did it go selling the seeds?”
“I didn’t sell any,” I said.
The rest of that conversation is a blur. But the next night, my dad handed me a sales booklet he’d picked up at work. I tried reading it, but it was written for adults already working in sales—people like my dad, not a kid just starting out. It didn’t help much, and it definitely didn’t soothe my bruised spirit.
My dad did buy a few packets of seeds, but it wasn’t nearly enough to get that bicycle. Days passed, then weeks. The shoebox sat there, a nagging reminder of failure. Eventually, I threw the seeds away.
I didn’t get the bicycle. But I did get something else: lessons that, though hard-learned at the time, would shape my life.
Early Lessons:
- Ask for specific help. I needed my dad not just to encourage me but to teach me how to sell.
- Start with people you know. Strangers are tougher; familiar faces build confidence.
As the years rolled on, I found myself in sales again and again—accordion lessons door-to-door, cold calls to sell copiers and industrial lighting, even life insurance (which I hated), and telemarketing magazine subscriptions and business loans.
Each job was short-lived, but with every experience, I learned a little more.
Lifelong Lessons:
- “No” doesn’t have to stop me. Rejection is part of the game.
- Books don’t have all the answers. Real learning happens by doing the thing.
- Don’t take rejection personally. It’s not about me—it’s about timing, need, and a hundred other factors.
- The next call is another opportunity. Keep moving forward.
- Tomorrow is another day—and maybe, just maybe, a better one.
Looking back, I didn’t realize it then, but those seeds planted something much deeper than flowers or vegetables. They planted resilience, courage, and the tenacity to keep knocking, even when the door slams in your face.
And that, I’ve learned, is worth more than any bicycle.
Aldo, thank you for sharing!
Field experience has significant benefits because it allows you to acquire practical and adaptable skills that are difficult to teach in a school setting.
I call it the “degree in practical experience”!!
Experience often provides problem-solving skills developed in the field, the ability to work in a team and manage conflict, flexibility and adaptability, technical knowledge acquired directly, the development of a strong work ethic and resilience, and more.
In a system where academia sometimes does not prepare enough for rapid changes in the market, field experience proves to be a competitive advantage.
Furthermore, your story shows that everything that happens in life is useful: if you do not know the reason right away, you will understand it later. And, in any case, even if one does not understand it clearly, something has been learned from the experience!!