i normally don't send forwards but i got this one the other day from my husband, i thought it was a touching story, it made me look at the world and the possible future for my child in a much nicer, kinder light.
Two Choices
At a fund-raising 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, Shya, cannot learn things as other children do. 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 Shya,
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:
Shya and I had walked past a park where some boys Shya knew were
playing baseball. Shya asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?'
I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shya 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 Shya 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.'
Shya 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, Shya's team scored a few
runs but was still behind by three.
At a fund-raising 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, Shya, cannot learn things as other children do. 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 Shya,
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:
Shya and I had walked past a park where some boys Shya knew were
playing baseball. Shya asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?'
I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shya 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 Shya 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.'
Shya 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, Shya's team scored a few
runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shya 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, Shya's team scored again.
Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning
run was on base and Shya was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shya bat and give away their
chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shya was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit
was all but impossible because Shya did not even know how to hold the
bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shya stepped up to the
plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting
winning aside for this moment in Shya's life, moved in a few steps
to lob the ball in softly so Shya could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shya swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball
softly towards Shya.
As the pitch came in, Shya 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.
Shya 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 teammates.
Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shya,
run to first! Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shya 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, Shya awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming
and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shya rounded towards second base, the right fielder
had the ball, the smallest person 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.
Shya ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of
him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, 'Shya, Shya, Shya, all the way, Shya!'
Shya 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 Shya, run to third!'
As Shya rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the
spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shya, run home! Run
home!'
Shya 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'.
Shya did not 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!
May your day, be a Shya Day.
Love....
TONY HAGGIE, SR
chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shya was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit
was all but impossible because Shya did not even know how to hold the
bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shya stepped up to the
plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting
winning aside for this moment in Shya's life, moved in a few steps
to lob the ball in softly so Shya could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shya swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball
softly towards Shya.
As the pitch came in, Shya 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.
Shya 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 teammates.
Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shya,
run to first! Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shya 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, Shya awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming
and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shya rounded towards second base, the right fielder
had the ball, the smallest person 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.
Shya ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of
him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, 'Shya, Shya, Shya, all the way, Shya!'
Shya 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 Shya, run to third!'
As Shya rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the
spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shya, run home! Run
home!'
Shya 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'.
Shya did not 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!
May your day, be a Shya Day.
Love....
TONY HAGGIE, SR
