Made different… to make a difference!
 
If everybody were like everybody else, how boring it would be.  The things that make me different are the things that make me Me!   
 (Piglet with Eeyore, from Winnie the Pooh)
“Fear has no hold on me! I’m not going to let fear silence me. I tell myself it doesn’t matter if I’m different.”  

Why do we allow ourselves to fear what others think of us? You see, everyone has a heart beat. Indeed we are more alike than we are different.  Are they really as fearful as we think they are? The only thing that really matters is our attitude.  Not only our attitude towards others but also our attitude towards ourselves.

Why cower in fear or turn away in shame? Just because you’re different from other people does not make you any less precious.  We can make a difference for ourselves and others when we face our fears, whatever that may be. 

Don’t turn away. You may be able to help someone who is facing what you have experienced.  When I was about four years old, my whole family, consisting of my very young mother, busy father and three other siblings came over to this country I am presently living in from a neighboring country.  My mother had her hands full with four young children and the difficulties of adjusting to a new country. As such she had little capacity to see to to our emotional needs. Worse, I was, as a middle child, a particularly sensitive and introverted child. Even at that young an age, I really wanted to learn and was especially envious of my elder sister being able to go to school.  But this dream of going to school, soon turned into a nightmare for me. You see,I had dyslexia and my teacher and classmates were not sympathetic. Looking back, they were probably ignorant of this learning disability. 

When I couldn’t get my “p” or “g” sorted out and even my “b” and “d”, I was laughed at mercilessly.  It was very humiliating and difficult for me as  I did not receive an early childhood education and lacked the basic pre-school and kindergarten exposure and necessary language skills . Going to school became a trauma for me.  It took another four years of my mother forcing me to attend school, and my making friends at school (Introverts Unite!) that eventually helped me assimilate to the school culture and gained confidence in my studies.  I shared more about my struggles in my post – Shaping lives or minds?

So no matter how different you may seem to others or yourself, do press on.  Eventually you will find acceptance.  Perhaps your challenges may disappear as did my dyslexia.  Read about Shay in the story below – “Everyone Can Play”  and be encouraged.  So trudged on.  Don’t give in to fear!  If you can, enjoy the journey. 

Today is a brand new day!

Artist: Lydia C.    Text: Anna G,

Everyone Can Play

At a fundraising dinner for an American 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:

“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 can.  Where is the natural order of things in my son?”

The audience was silenced 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 of how other people treat that child.”  

Then he shared 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 in 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 handicap.

Without much expectation, Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked 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 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 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 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 that 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 fielded 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’ve 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 the third base, and shouted,”Run to the 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 embraced her little hero of the day!

Source: Rabbi Paysach Krohn, a popular lecturer and best selling author of the ARtScroll Maggid series of short stories.
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  • Post last modified:June 24, 2021
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