June 7, 2009

  • Our world hangs like a magnificent jewel in the vastness of space. Every one of us is a part of that jewel; a facet of that jewel. In the perspective of infinity, our differences are infinitesimal. We are intimately related. May we never even pretend that we are not. One of my favorite stories comes from the Seattle Special Olympics. For the 100-yard dash there were nine contestants, all of them so-called physically or mentally disabled. All nine of them assembled at the starting line and at the sound of the gun, they took off. Soon afterward, one little boy stumbled and fell, hurt his knee, and began to cry. The other eight children heard him crying; they slowed down, turned around and ran back to him. Every one of them ran back to him. One little girl with Down Syndrome bent down and kissed the boy and said, "This'll make it better." And the little boy got up and he the rest of the runners linked their arms together and joyfully walked to the finish line. They all finished the race at the same time. When they did, everyone in that stadium stood up and clapped and whistled and cheered for a long, long, time. People who were there are still telling the story with great delight.

    Some people tell me that the Special Olympics are unique and something of that nature would never happen in other venues. Well, in April 2008, with two runners on base and a strike against her, Sara Tucholsky of Western Oregon University uncorked her best swing and did something she had never done, in high school or college. Her first home run cleared the center-field fence.

    However, it appeared to be the shortest of dreams come true when she missed first base, started back to tag it and collapsed with a knee injury. She crawled back to first but could do no more. The first-base coach said she would be called out if her teammates tried to help her. If a pinch runner was called in, the homer would only count as a single.

    Then, members of the Central Washington University softball team stunned spectators by carrying Tucholsky around the bases so the three-run homer would count--an act that contributed to their own elimination from the playoffs. See Central Washington first baseman Mallory Holtman, the career home run leader in the Great Northwest Athletic Conference, asked the umpire if she and her teammates could help Tucholsky.

    The umpire said there was no rule against it. Holtman and shortstop Liz Wallace promptly put their arms under Tucholsky's legs, and she put her arms over their shoulders. The three headed around the base paths, stopping to let Tucholsky touch each base with her good leg. As the trio reached home plate, the entire Western Oregon team was in tears. This story was all over ESPN and the news.

    Both these stories continue to be told by people who witnessed the acts and people that have not. They are told because deep down, we know that what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What really matters is helping others win too; even if it means slowing down and changing our course now and then.