Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. Jean Anouilh
Sheldon, one of our son’s friends, was an unlikely Homecoming King at their high school’s football game. He spent most of his academic day in a special education classroom, was seldom a part of parties and goings on, and was unable to participate in sports because of his disabilities. Somehow, though, Sheldon’s bear hugs and his loud hellos when he called your name worked magic on the students and faculty. So much so that when the evening came to announce the winner from the Homecoming Court, Sheldon jumped in circles and squealed when he was crowned.
Recently, Sheldon posted a belated birthday wish on our son’s Facebook page, some 10 years after their graduation. I noticed he’s working as an associate at Goodwill Industries. I thought, “How appropriate.”
Next, “They’re lucky to have him.”
When reading his message, what struck me is how a decade ago, I felt sorry for this young man. I remember being grateful to the students who went out of their way to be accepting, you know, doing him a favor – how they helped Sheldon, rallied around him, and even gave up a popularity contest to allow him to win king for a day.
If I had written this post back then, it would have been about the heart of those students. Though I’m still impressed by their kindness, what I didn’t recognize was Sheldon was royalty long before that crown. Instead of all we did for him, he did us the favor.
WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – Thanks, Sheldon. You set an example for what you do well, love unconditionally.
