Its getting better by the minute. Just hang with me!
The most shameful moment after peeing all over Provo's immaculate hospital was having someone actually open a door for me. No, I don't mean my dad or mom or one of my friends. We do that all the time for each other, because courtesy is not a lost art. We still practice it between ourselves and with others. It is a very little thing that helps remind each of us how much we mean to each other, as friends, and as brothers and sisters, always.
Well, this person who opened for me was not part of my group. He was obviuously queued by the same kinds of motivators, but instead of seeing me as a friend, he obviously saw me first and foremost as a handicapped person, one who was less able, who would benefit from his more capable abilities. I was absolutely nonplussed. I think I even stood there with my mouth hanging open for a moment while the erstwhile do-gooder grew quickly embarrassed. I jumped through the door before he could slip away, and offered profuse thanks, albeit belatedly. It was an embarrassing moment. I didn't realize yet that I am well and truly a handicapped person in every definition of the word.
That's okay.
People can open doors for me if they want. When I'm ready I'll challenge them to a footrace to the top of Timp Mountain. And I'll WIN!!!!!! Well, maybe not, but I can still be an optimist, can't I?
Oh, please, please if you see someone who is handicapped and needs a helping hand, just pitch in and help like it was the natural thing to do. It is so hard for us to be in the situation where now we need help.
I don't want to be reporting to the master someday when someone confronts me, and says, "I needed your help, where were you when I needed you that time?"
The point isn't that we are missing chances to help handicapped people. There is actually is enough to do the ones we like.
Next instalment: Setting the Stage
1 comment:
Hey, where'd ya go? You worry me when you quit in the middle of a word. You were on a roll there, too.
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