From an e-mail. It brought a lump to my throat and moisture to my eyes:
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 is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves
children with learning disabilities, 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:
'When not interfered with by outside influences,
everything
nature does, is done with perfection.
Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other
children do. He
cannot understand things as other children do..
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child
like Shay,
who was mentally and physically disabled 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 I had walked past a park where some boys
Shay knew were
playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew
that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team,
but as a father I also understood that if my 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.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked
(not
expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance 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 and, with a
broad smile,
put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth
in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my 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 I 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 because 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 that the other team was 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 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.
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
first
baseman's head, 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 run that far, but he
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 the base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the
right fielder
had the ball. the smallest guy on their team who now had his first
chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman
for the tag,
but he understood the pitcher's intentions so 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 because the opposing
shortstop ran to
help him by turning 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
the
spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! 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. He died that
winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!