My older cerebral palsied sister, Barb, and others with disabilities like hers, have taught me many things over the years.

Sometimes those lessons are very touching.

Sometimes they are amusing.

Sometimes, they are eerily, simply wise.

Here are a few examples:

A man who is mildly handicapped and works at a cafeteria where I periodically eat said to his manager, good-naturedly one day at the end of the lunch shift:

"When is our next meeting?"

"Whenever," his manager said, broadly, magnanimously.

"I know you can't meet today," the mildly handicapped man said, wisely starting to narrow down the manger's broad, uncommitted statement to specific possibilities.

I smiled to myself as I listened, and understood.

He was respectfully getting his manager to think through a specific meeting time and date, which both needed.

And as he did so, he was showing that he respected himself, his work, and his relationship with his manager enough to get his share of his manager's mindshare, in a gentle way.

In a second example, my sister, Barb, talked recently in one of our weekly calls about a few people we both know who are constantly stressed.

"I told them, 'Look the blue sky!'" she said, suggesting a solution that was free, and freely available to anyone who chose to take it.

Even a few moments of Barb's blue sky prescription can help.

I laughed with her, delighted, somehow, someway.

Barb's recommendation was one more example of her simple wisdom. She is a great, non-judgmental listener who is easy to have around, and thankful for her loved ones' time and attention.

And as I laughed, I felt, once again, momentarily blessed.

In a final example, from some years ago, I was part of an honorary organization which required its members to do some community service, along with other things. A group of us were helping one Saturday at the state's home for its most severely handicapped citizens.

One man, who was among the most physically and mentally limited residents, turned to one member of our group and asked in a moment of profound clarity, "Why do you call yourselves volunteers if you only show up once?"

I almost laughed.

He was right.

He, the institutionalized man with great handicaps of various types, was the wise one in that moment – not we, the soon-to-be college graduates who were going through the motions of service, in many ways.

From his perspective, as the customer of that service, he wanted people to help – and get credit for that help – who really cared enough about the residents, as individuals, to show up again and again.

Do you know experiences of simple, sometimes eerily wise advice coming from unexpected places, as well?

Keep your eyes and ears open. You'll be surprised at how often it happens, again and again.