Two choices
För ett tag sedan fick jag ett mail som ploppade upp i inkorgen, och jag tänkte dela med mig av vad som stod.
"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 learining 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:
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"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 learining 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.
Where is the natural order of things in my son?"
Yet, my son, Shay, 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, and 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 me - 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 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 teams bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and a warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shays 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, Shays 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?
Suprisingly, 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 Shays 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 the at 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 basemans 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 scrampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled - Run to second, run to second!
Chatching 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 pitchers intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-basemans 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, where 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.
Shay asked me - 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 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 teams bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and a warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shays 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, Shays 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?
Suprisingly, 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 Shays 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 the at 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 basemans 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 scrampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled - Run to second, run to second!
Chatching 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 pitchers intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-basemans 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, where 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!"
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!"
AND NOW, A LITTLE FOOT NOTE 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 hesitate.
The crude, vulgar, and often obsene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often supressed in our schools and workplaces.
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 hesitate.
The crude, vulgar, and often obsene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often supressed in our schools and workplaces.
If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people in your addressbook who aren't the "appropriate" ones to recieve this typ 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 presents us with a choice:
Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?
You now have two choices:
1. Delete
2. Send forward
May your day, be a Shay Day.
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 presents us with a choice:
Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?
You now have two choices:
1. Delete
2. Send forward
May your day, be a Shay Day.
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