Give A Little Bit 2581
Monday, December 12, 2005-11:38 P.M.
Today I was carrying my daughter to the car after the Lyell-Otis Neighborhood Association Christmas party, and she pointed up into the air and said "sky." That might not sound like much, but she hasn't been very verbal, and she's coming up on 21 months old (yesterday, actually) and we were getting a little concerned, Pamela and I were. She only had the command of about a dozen words that we would hear regularly, and now it seems like she's adding a couple of new words every day. Today, she said "grits" (her regular breakfast), although it came out sounding like "gits." Never you mind, I'll take it.
It's been really great spending so much time at home this month, enjoying the holidays with my family. It's a pleasure I'd been denying myself in the name of work for years. Thank God I have Harmony, or I was on a Scrooge path for sure, due to be visited by ghosts and all that.
I've always romanticized Christmas, like every year I somehow expected a miracle to occur in my life, whether it be to meet the perfect mate, score the perfect job, or receive the perfect gift. I waited for redemption and absolution under a single, twinkling star, handed down by a benevolent God on the eve of his earthly arrival.
I always worked on Christmas eve, closing the store I worked at, and relishing the crunch of new snow under my feet when I locked up, the silence on the street and the absence of cars on the road on the drive home.
Of course the streets were silent, and there were no cars on the road! Everyone was home with their families, celebrating indoors and enjoying each other's company. Company, mind you, that was a gift. The gift of someone's company. For years, I never considered my company to be a gift, and so I never gave it...no wonder I was always wishing for a miracle to make my life better; if I wasn't willing to extend my hand, what hope was there that a hand would be extended to me? It's seems so silly and obvious now that it almost pains me that I wasted away many of my prime years feeling sorry for myself and spending the most joyous time of the years away from family and friends. Perhaps that's why I so easily turned to drugs and the numbness that they brought; I was feeling pain of my own devising. The Pennsylvania Dutch have a saying, "You get too soon old, and too late smart." and I believe that to be entirely true.
So, this time of the year, I have a tendency to get a little sappy and maudlin, and maybe it's just my attempt at making up for lost time, and maybe I just try to immerse myself in that feeling, but I received an e-mail that I want to share.
Now, a lot of the time, these e-mails are just saccharine, and really aren't worth forwarding except to the very simple minded. But this one touched me, and as much as I hate to pass this sort of thing along (you never know who's going to appreciate it, or who you didn't send it to that might have liked to read it), but I'm going to reprint it here. If you're the sort that doesn't enjoy this sort of thing, go ahead and skip to the end. I'll tie things up and close today's journal entry. But if you do enjoy that sort of thing, or think that you need a little shot of something spiritual today, please read it. I am of the mind that I received it for a reason, and that in passing it along, I'll make someone smile, or cry, or prompt them to move in a way that they might not have regardless. With that in mind, gentle reader, the e-mail as I received it.
Two choices - What would you do?
You make the choice! Don't look for a punch line; there isn't one!
Read it anyway. My question to all of you is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.
After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child." Then he told the following story:
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?"
Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and a few boys nodded approval, why not? So he took matters into his own hands and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning." Shay struggled over to the team's bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay" Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet were screaming, "Shay, run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "The boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world." Shay didn't make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy and coming home and seeing his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
AND, NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY: We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people think twice about sharing. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.
If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people on your address list that aren't the "appropriate" ones to receive this type of message.
Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the "natural order of things."
So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up that opportunity to brighten the day of those with us the least able, and leave the world a little bit colder in the process? A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats its least fortunate amongst them.
You now have two choices: 1. Delete 2. Forward
OK. So that's it. My Christmas season message.
If you're moved, by all means, pass it along. If you think it's too sappy, fine...I walked in cynical shoes most of my life, and I know it's not easy to flash a moment of, dare I say it, love, without opening yourself up to ridicule. So do me a favor; take a moment today and decide to do as many acts of charity and good will as you possibly can. I won't hold you to a number, and I'm not suggesting any sort of monetary contribution. God knows, people don't need money when it comes right down to it...human beings survived for a long time before we started putting dollar values on things.
Say something nice to someone. If you really want to challenge yourself, say something nice to someone you don't know. See if you have the balls to pull that one off.
Go to a food bank, homeless shelter, church rectory, or anywhere, and give them a can of soup from your cupboard at home. One can. That might not seem like a lot, but imagine if everyone did that. That's a lot of soup, and a lot less hungry people. At the very least, they're one can of soup better prepared to help than they were before you showed up.
Call a friend you haven't talked to for a while. Pick someone you might be mad at for some reason, or at the very least, displeased. Call them and tell them you were thinking about them. Maybe you'll say you can't talk very long, but make the call just the same. If that's too painful, write a letter. The postage is going up to 39 cents in January, so do it now.
Can you forgive someone today? Can you ask forgiveness? Try it.
Thank someone today. Your bank teller. The person who sold you your groceries. Someone doing a service for you that I can't possibly imagine, your mail carrier, your accountant. Whomever. Make someone's day with a compliment.
You know, good will goes a long way. How much can you generate on your own? If you make someone's day, maybe they'll be in a position to pass that good will along. Or better yet, maybe they'll be in a position to offer up a bitter word or gesture, and they'll think twice and not do it. What is possible?
There's good at the core of every one of us, but life has a way of beating it down, covering it up, or allowing it to wither, if not die completely. Can you find that good today? Can you find it in others? What would happen if we all lit that fire at once?
Happy Holidays to you.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
P.S. Here's a nice Christmas picture of Pamela, Harmony and myself....consider it a Christmas card of best wishes from me and my family to you and yours.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
