In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters
to
learning-disabled children. Some children remain in
Chush for their
entire school career, while others can be
main-streamed into
conventional schools.
At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush
child delivered a
speech that would never be forgotten by all who
attended. After
extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried
out, "Where is
the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does
is done with
perfection. But my child cannot understand things as
other children do.
My child cannot remember facts and figures as other
children do.
Where
is God's perfection?"
The audience was shocked by the question, pained by
the father's
anguish
and stilled by the piercing query. "I believe," the
father answered,
"that when God brings a child like this into the
world, the perfection
that He seeks is in the way people react to this
child."
He then told the following story about his son Shaya:
One afternoon
Shaya and his father walked past a park where some
boys Shaya knew were
playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they
will let me play?"
Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all
athletic and that most
boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's
father understood
that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a
comfortable
sense
of belonging.
Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field
and asked if
Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance
from his
teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own
hands and said,
"We are 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
up to bat in the
ninth inning."
Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly.
Shaya was told to
put on a glove and go out to play short center field.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team
scored a few runs but
was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth
inning, Shaya's
team scored again and now with two outs and the bases
loaded with the
potential winning run on base, Shaya was scheduled to
be up.
Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture
and give away
their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew
that it was all
but
impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold
the bat properly,
let alone hit with it. However, as Shaya stepped up
to the plate, the
pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so
Shaya should at
least be able to make contact. The first pitch came
in and Shaya swung
clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's team-mates came
up to Shaya and
together they held the bat and faced the pitcher
waiting for the next
pitch.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the
ball softly
toward Shaya. As the pitch came in, Shaya and his
team-mate swung the
bat and together they hit a slow ground ball to the
pitcher. The
pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily
have thrown the
ball to the first baseman.
Shaya would have been out and that would have ended
the game. Instead,
the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc
to right field,
far
beyond reach of the first baseman.
Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run
to first!" Never
in
his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down
the baseline wide
eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base,
the right
fielder
had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the
second baseman who
would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the
right fielder
understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he
threw the ball
high and far over the third baseman's head.
Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya
ran towards
second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously
circled the bases
towards home. As Shaya reached second base, the
opposing short stop
ran
to him, turned him in the direction of third base and
shouted, "Run to
third."
As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran
behind him
screaming, "Shaya run home!"
Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys
lifted him on
their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just
hit a "grand
slam"
and won the game for his team.
"That day," said the father softly with tears now
rolling down his
face,
"those 18 boys reached their level of God's
perfection."
