40 Days of Embracing Uncertainty - Day 22 (for Saturday, March 21)

I made friends with Bobby somewhere during my grade school years.  Bobby was a bright kid, but he had a pretty severe speech impediment.  I really got to know Bobby a little better when I was in the same special class with him, a class led by a guy whose name was Mr. Shock.  Several times a week we would meet in Mr. Shock’s classroom and work on our speech patterns.  

Mr. Shock was a speech therapist.  I had a little bit of a lisp.  Between Bobby’s obvious impairment and my own Winthrop issues, we got to know one another in Mr. Shock’s class.  We were the same age – sometimes we were in the same classes, especially in middle school then later high school.  Like I said, Bobby was a bright kid.  He just didn’t always sound that way.  Come to think of it, neither did I.

(My 5th grade school picture)

I can only speak for myself growing up during those awkward years.  I was a geeky kid.  No really – check out that 5^th grade picture to the right and you’ll see that it’s true.  Yikes!  I had to wear glasses that were thick enough to protect my good right eye, because I was partially blind in my left eye.  I went through a lot of glasses!  I was always breaking them for some reason or other.  One of the neighborhood kids called me “google eyes” because my glass lenses were so thick.  From what I recall, those were tough days.  It’s not easy to get picked on like that – not at all.

Bobby began to go his own way, especially in high school.  Everybody loved Bobby – he was a cool kid.  He knew everyone and everyone knew him.  We’d talk now and again, but it wasn’t like it was in grade school.  It happens like that, doesn’t it?  People grow apart and go their own way.  That’s life.

(Bobby in high school)

When we graduated, Bobby and I received our high school diplomas just like everyone else.  I had somehow grown out of that geekiness and awkward phase enough to be elected class president for my junior and senior high school years – don’t ask how that happened.  I am still not certain to this day.  I was voted most likely to succeed – for years, I wondered exactly what that meant.  What was I supposed to succeed at?  

You know my story going forth from there.  Bobby stayed in the area.  Last I heard, he was retired from working for the city he grew up in.  I haven’t seen Bobby for a number of years – I’m looking forward to our 50 year class reunion coming up in two years.  I hope he is there.

I chose to write about Bobby and I because the story of the ten lepers has a special meaning for me.  I understand what it is like to be separated from the community because of how you sound or how you look.  Mind you, it wasn’t everyone who treated me that way, nor even Bobby for that matter.  But we were both different enough that some of the kids made it their mission in life to set us on the outside looking in.  I humbly apologize because I am not meaning to equate my condition with those who have leprosy.  I’m only talking about things that often separate us from those who have and those who do not.  It can be a very painful thing.

I hope that I would have been counted as one who was grateful to grow out of certain things when I was younger.  I am grateful to God for every little thing I’ve been blessed with over the years.  Lord, if I didn’t say it right away, forgive me.  Thank you for healing me – not my speech nor my appearance, but my heart.  It was broken a time or two by the names I was called and the actions that were taken against me.  I hold no ill will toward those persons – fact is I can barely remember their names let alone their faces.  But I remember them enough to know that whenever I come across someone who sounds different like Bobby and I sounded, or who looks different, who even acts different, I know that God loves them for who they are, not for who others might want them to be. 

That’s good enough for me.