The well-known actor Henry Winkler battled dyslexia all of his life. His parents punished him severely, and he was often made fun of and called names, which had a negative impact on his self-esteem.
He had no idea that there was a cause for his difficulties. Later in life, Winkler made use of his illness to motivate people, particularly young people going through comparable struggles.
Winkler had a difficult time getting to where she is now. Even with his diligence and commitment, he ran into many problems. His parents held a great regard for education and had high standards for him. However, they thought he was not reaching his full potential and frequently called him stupid and lazy. But Winkler knew he was doing the best he could.
Winkler struggled so much in school that he was not only disciplined but also kept from taking part in school events. For the majority of his high school career, he was expected to overcome his “laziness” by spending weeks at a time at his desk. But his problems continued.
Winkler did not allow his dyslexia to stop him in the face of these obstacles. Even after earning a Master of Fine Arts from Yale University, he continued to have trouble reading scripts. His coping technique became improvisation; he would frequently commit the remaining portions of the script to memory. Despite several stumbles during table reads for his well-known part as “Fonzie” in Happy Days, his extraordinary talent and commitment were evident.
Winkler never gave his own dyslexic issues much thought until his stepson’s learning disability was discovered through testing. He was thirty-one when he finally identified the cause of his problems. He said, “I didn’t read a book until I was 31 years old when I was diagnosed with dyslexia,” as he thought back on this revelation. I was afraid of books. I felt uneasy with them.
From annoyance to motivation
When Winkler realized what was causing his reading difficulties, his first reaction was rage. He was angry since it now seemed pointless that he had argued with his parents and received punishment. He chose to utilize his diagnosis as motivation for others, especially kids, and managed to transform his fury into a constructive energy. In a series of children’s books, he created the dyslexic Hank, a pupil in elementary school.
For many kids who struggle with their education, the Hank Zipzer series has struck a chord. Winkler consistently emphasizes, “Your learning challenge will not stop you from meeting your dreams,” in his personal responses to emails from his young readers. The only person who can stop you from realizing your aspirations is you.
Even though Winkler continues to struggle with his own schooling, he has accomplished amazing things. In addition to writing multiple books and receiving multiple honors for his work in Hollywood, he is scheduled to publish his memoir in 2024. Despite all, he maintains his modesty and says that writing novels is his greatest accomplishment, second only to his family.
Henry Winkler’s amazing story began when he was a little child and ended when he realized he had dyslexia and overcame it. His tenacity and fortitude are an inspiration to those going through comparable difficulties. He has demonstrated that it is possible to overcome any challenge and have a positive impact on the world if one has self-belief and perseverance.
My husband surprised me on my birthday — when I saw who emerged from the gift box, I burst into tears
As Amelia’s 30th birthday approaches, her husband, Jared, keeps hinting at a major surprise for her, causing her imagination to grow wild. On the day of her birthday party, she discovers that her birthday surprise is a man who she never wanted to see again…
I could tell that something was up. My husband, Jared, had been buzzing for weeks about this “life-changing” gift. Every day, another cryptic comment came my way.
“You’ll love it, babe, trust me!” Jared would say, practically bouncing on his feet.
When I asked him about it, he’d just smirk and say, “You’ll see!”
Honestly, by the time my birthday party rolled around, I was convinced that it was something practical. Like maybe an appliance, or the recliner with the massage functions I’d been eyeing. I would have been happy with the ice cream machine that I wanted, but honestly, Jared’s enthusiasm made me feel good that he’d gone to so much trouble.
“You’re worth all the effort, Amelia,” he said. “I just want you to feel special and know that I listen and I care.”
So when he walked in on my birthday, he struggled to roll in a massive gift box much bigger than our washing machine.
“A freezer?” I asked, laughing. “I always said we needed more space for leftovers.”
Jared winked at me and shook his head.
“You’re not even close,” he said.
I should’ve noticed the way some of our friends shifted awkwardly when he said that. Or how my mom suddenly became very interested in rearranging the snack table. But I didn’t. I was too wrapped up in the excitement and anticipation of the moment.
The party was in full swing by then. Friends, coworkers, and even some of Jared’s relatives had shown up. There were people that I hadn’t seen in a while, and everyone I cared about was there, sipping on their drinks and chatting loudly.
After about ten minutes, Jared clinked his glass to get everyone’s attention, and the room quieted.
“Alright, babe,” Jared said, his eyes practically gleaming. “Are you ready for your life-changing gift, Amelia?”
I nodded, my heart racing. Even if it wasn’t anything amazing, it was Jared’s joy that was highly addictive. He told me to close my eyes. And I heard some shuffling and the sound of the box moving slightly.
People giggled.
And then someone said, “Oh my God,” under their breath, and I could hear Jared counting down.
“Three… two… one…”
I opened my eyes, and my breath caught in my throat.
Standing there, grinning from ear to ear, was my father.
My father.
I could barely process it. The room spun for a moment, the laughter around me faded into a dull hum, and all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears.
The flashbacks hit me like a freight train.
Suddenly, I could see my father stumbling home drunk while I had friends over. I could see my mom crying at the kitchen table, bills spread out in front of her. I could remember my father helping himself to the little wooden box that I kept in my nightstand where I put all my savings from babysitting.
And I remembered how he blew it all on gambling and alcohol.
And the countless nights where he just never came home. Not to mention the day he packed up and left us, leaving us with nothing but a mountain of debt and broken promises.
And now, here he was. Right in front of me. At my 30th birthday party.
“Hey there, kiddo!” he said loudly.
His voice slurred a bit, exactly how I remembered it from my childhood. He wobbled slightly as he stepped forward, arms out like he was expecting a hug.
I froze.
My chest tightened, my stomach twisted into knots. This man reeked of whiskey and cigarettes, his face flushed red with a buzz. A few people clapped, most likely thinking that this was a sweet reunion.
But they had no idea.
“Surprised, babe?” Jared asked, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.
He wrapped his arms around me, beaming.
“I tracked Patrick down. I knew that you hadn’t seen him in years, but I figured that it would be great to bring him back into your life for your birthday.”
My father’s grin widened.
“Yeah, it’s been too long, hasn’t it, Amelia?”
His eyes scanned our home, not settling on me for more than a second.
“This is a nice party,” he said. “And this is a nice house. I bet it cost a pretty penny, huh? How many bedrooms do you have? Because I’m staying at a motel for the weekend. Didn’t know how long I was going to be here…”
I felt my throat close up. This wasn’t happening. There was no way that he was here. This was supposed to be my birthday. It was supposed to be my day.
And instead? It felt like I had been thrown back into my worst memories, trapped in a nightmare with no escape.
“Amelia? Sweetheart?” Jared’s voice was soft now, noticing my stillness and the absence of the joy that he thought I’d have by now. “You okay?”
I wasn’t okay. I couldn’t breathe.
Then, like some sick punchline, my dad patted Jared on the back, leaning in too close.
“Hey, kiddo, Jared, do you guys think that you could lend me a little something? Just for old-time’s sake? You know, for my troubles getting here. It was expensive.”
My husband blinked, confused. I wasn’t. This was exactly who he was. This was exactly who he had always been. This man was always looking for a handout. He was always ready to take more from the people he claimed to care about.
The room felt too small. The walls were closing in. And I needed to get out.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered to Jared.
Without waiting for a response, I turned and bolted out of the living room, ignoring the shocked looks from everyone. My heels clicked loudly on the pavement as I ran.
I ran upstairs to our bedroom, slamming the door behind me. My chest heaved as I collapsed onto the bed.
“How could he actually come back and show his face?” I asked the empty room.
I thought about my mother and my heart broke all over again. I hadn’t even checked on her before running out.
Minutes passed, maybe even hours. I completely lost track. All I could think about was the teenage girl I had been when my father broke my heart on the daily.
Finally, the door creaked open, and Jared slipped in quietly, his face pale. He stood in the doorway for a moment as if unsure whether he should approach me or not.
“I had no idea, sweetheart, your mom filled me in now,” he said. “When we were talking about your father a few months ago, I just thought that maybe there was a yearning of sorts. And you wanted him back in. I thought you wanted this.”
I shook my head, wiping away more tears than I knew had fallen.
“No, I didn’t want this, Jared,” I said. “I just mentioned him because we were eating that pumpkin pie and that’s the one good memory I have of him. The two of us sitting on the couch and eating pumpkin pie. I’ve never wanted this man back in my life.”
Jared was quiet.
“He gambled away everything we had, Jared. He broke us. And left us with nothing.”
My husband reached for my hand, squeezing it gently.
“I’m so sorry, Amelia. If I knew about this, I would never have reached out.”
“I know,” I said. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, and I know how excited you’ve been about this whole thing. I just didn’t imagine that my father would pop out of a box.”
We sat in silence for a while, and I could hear the party winding down slowly. My father was probably long gone by now, slinking away like the ghost he’d become.
“Right, come on down and eat something,” my mother’s voice said as her head peeped through the door.
“I’m so sorry, Julia,” Jared told her. “I didn’t know about Patrick.”
“Oh, honey,” my mother said. “It’s more than okay. Before he left, I gave him a good piece of my mind. If anything, I’m sorry Amelia had to see him. But I am grateful that you gave me the opportunity to tell this man exactly how I feel about him.”
I smiled.
“I’m glad, Mom,” I said, getting off the bed. I was starving.
“There’s pizza and hamburgers and a lot of salad. There’s also about thirty-seven uneaten cupcakes,” my mother said.
“Coming,” I said.
It wasn’t the birthday I expected. It wasn’t the celebration I’d hoped for. But in the end, my mother had gotten her peace, and I was grateful.
What would you have done?
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