Ben Carson - My Life: Based on the Book Gifted Hands

Also by Ben Carson, M.D.

One Vote

(with Candy Carson)

One Nation

(with Candy Carson)

America the Beautiful

(with Candy Carson)

Gifted Hands

(with Cecil Murphey)

Think Big

(with Cecil Murphey)

Take the Risk

(with Gregg Lewis)

The Big Picture

(with Gregg Lewis)

You Have a Brain

(with Gregg Lewis and

Deborah Shaw Lewis)

ZONDERVAN

My Life

Copyright 2015 by Ben Carson

Based on the Book Gifted Hands

Requests for information should be addressed to:

Zondervan, 3900 Sparks Dr. SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

ePub Edition June 2015: ISBN 978-0-310-34460-5

All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

Published in association with Yates & Yates, www.yates2.com.

Edited by Lyn Cryderman and Becky Jen

Cover design: Curt Diepenhorst

Cover photography: Jana Cruder Photography

Interior design: Beth Shagene

First printing May 2015

Contents

J ust like that, he was gone.

When my mother announced that my dad wasnt going to live with us anymore, I thought I must have done something bad to make him want to leave. Then, when my mom said he had to leave because he had done something bad, the answer seemed so easy to my eight-year-old self.

Then we can just forgive him, right? I asked.

I was too young to understand the bad things that Daddy had done. To me, he was my dad, an affectionate and caring man who did fun things with my brother, Curtis, and me. I used to love to sit on his lap and play this game. With my little hands I would try to push down the big veins on the backs of his large, strong hands. No matter how hard I pushed, the veins would always pop back, and Daddy would laugh and say, Guess youre just not strong enough.

I loved my dad.

Sometimes he would bring us presents for no special reason. I just thought youd like this, he would say as he handed me a box, his dark eyes twinkling at my excitement. He wasnt around a lot, but when he was, he always made me happy. When I knew he was on his way home, I would sit by the window and watch, and when I saw him strolling down our alley, I would run out to him screaming, Daddy! Daddy! Then he would grab me up in his arms and carry me the rest of the way home.

And then he was gone.

As my mother tried to explain why he could never come back, I sobbed in her lap. She tried to comfort me. I couldnt imagine life without Daddy and pestered her for weeks, trying to make her change her mind. I pleaded with her, trying every argument my tender little mind could come up with:

With Daddy gone, we wont have any money whatll we do?

If you let him come back, I know hell be good.

Mothers and fathers are supposed to stay together.

What I didnt know was that my father had another wife, and together they were raising a whole other family. He also struggled with drugs, but I didnt know about any of this at that time because my mother kept it from us. His behavior must have hurt her deeply, but we never knew. She carried this burden alone because she wanted to protect us from the truth about my father.

Every night when I said my prayers, I asked God to help Mother and Dad get back together. I desperately wanted us to be a family again, but after a few weeks, I stopped praying. My mom told me later that Curtis and I struggled with a lot of pain during that time, but to be honest, I dont recall anything other than Dads leaving. I guess thats how I learned to handle my feelings. I just tried to forget them.

One thing I do remember is that we never had enough money. Even before Daddy left, we were never well off, but without his paycheck, we barely scraped by. Every time I asked my mother for something like a candy bar or a new toy, her answer was always the same: We dont have the money, Bennie. I could tell from the look on her face that it hurt her to not be able to buy us the things that other kids had, so after a while I quit asking.

I didnt know it then, but even though my dad was supposed to send us money, he seldom did. Maybe thats why a few times we went with Mother to the big courthouse. In spite of his lack of support, my mom seldom uttered a critical word about my dad, and thats probably why I never held a grudge against him. Rather than focus on him, Mother set her mind on making sure we were a happy family, even if it was just the three of us. Despite her lack of education and having to fend for us all by herself, she never complained. Countless times she reassured me: Bennie, were going to be fine.

It wasnt easy for Curtis and me to grow up without a dad, but it was even harder for Mother to carry the burden of providing for us all by herself. Before my dad left, Mother was always there, but now she had to work and be away a lot. Her dedication and sacrifice had a big impact on me, which is why I begin with her. Sonya Carson. The earliest, strongest, and most important force in my life. The only way I can tell my story is to begin with hers.

I almost felt sorry for the school counselor who got an unexpected visit from Mother.

Back in the day, schools tracked students according to their abilities, and the junior high that my brother Curtis attended placed him in the vocational curriculum rather than the college-prep curriculum. His grades were good enough for the college curriculum, but this was a predominately white school, and Mother was convinced that the counselor had made the fairly common assumption that blacks were incapable of college work. So Mother headed straight for the counselors office the next day.

My son Curtis is going to college, she told the counselor. I dont want him taking any vocational courses.

Curtis immediately became college material and was placed on the college-prep curriculum.

Thats my mom a strong woman who does not allow the system to dictate her life. Today we would describe her as a classic type-A personality. Driven, hardworking, refusing to settle for anything but the best. She was also a big-picture woman, intuitively knowing exactly what needed to be done in any situation. Some of that rubbed off on me, though I wasnt always open to her constant prodding to do my best. In fact, at times she could seem demanding, even heartless. The word quit wasnt in her vocabulary, and she tried her best to banish it from mine. I cant tell you how many times I heard her say, You can do it, Bennie! or her favorite, Just ask the Lord, and hell help you.

Being kids, Curtis and I often resented her constant pushing, but over the years it took hold. We started to believe that we could do anything we chose to do. I guess you could say she brainwashed us in a good way. Even today, when faced with something that seems impossible, I can still hear my mothers voice: You can do it, Bennie. Dont you stop believing that for one second.