It’s all About How We React to “Sweet Somethings” in Life.

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Dear Reader:

Yesterday, the idea for the “body and soul’ relationships we discussed in the blog came from a chance meeting of turning the television station to PBS, which was showing short video clips of Wayne Dyer’s most popular messages. (I am still in shock that he is gone…after fighting cancer successfully he died of a sudden heart attack in August of 2015.)

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One anecdote that he told dealt with our acceptance of others we deem “different.” The problem never lies within the child/adult but in the perception of people who come into contact with him./her. It is our response that defines our true character.

  • I researched this story to make sure it just wasn’t another half-truth anecdote that had been embellished over time….it was verified by the father and other witnesses at the ball park as actuality.
  • When we recognize the “sweet somethings” in every human being, regardless of race, gender, political affiliation, social status, religious preference, etc we get a glimpse of “unconditional love.”
  •  “Perfectly Imperfect Sweet Somethings”-Shaya’s Story

At a fund-raising dinner for a Brooklyn school that caters to learning-disabled children, the father of one child was expected to give a speech extolling the dedicated staff’s work.  Instead his opening remarks shocked the crowd of parents and teachers. He cried out: “My son goes to this school, which teaches that everything God does is done with perfection.  But where is the perfection in my son Shaya?  My child cannot understand things as other children do. So tell me, where is God’s perfection?”

The audience, shocked by the man’s anguished question, hushed.  A few people coughed nervously as the father continued:  “I believe that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection He seeks is in the way people react.”  The father then told about the afternoon he and Shaya walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball.  Shaya asked, “Do you think they will let me play?”

The father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team.  Nevertheless, Shaya’s father understood that if his son were to be chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.  So the 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.  “We’re losing by six runs, and the game is in the eighth inning,” he told the father.  “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.  A team member told Shaya 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 up to bat.

Would the team actually take a chance on Shaya to bat home the winning run?  Everyone knew it was all but impossible because Shaya didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it.

Yet 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 teammates came up to Shaya so together they could hold the bat and face the pitcher.

Again the pitcher took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly.  As the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the bat and together they hit a slow ground ball.  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.  So now 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, 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. Just as Shaya reached second base, the opposing shortstop 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.  They made Shaya their 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.”

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So until tomorrow…Let us all strive for God’s perfection in our imperfectly clumsy ways….”Jesus knows we are weak…but He is strong”….He will keep pulling us closer and closer to perfection as long as we just keep swinging the bat.

*Thank you God for this little anecdote that filled my heart to capacity.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

*I went over to Mollie and Walsh’s home yesterday afternoon to help watch the boys while Mollie packed. She is taking the boys to Washington, D.C. to have a family birthday with Lachlan and his cousin Madeline with their grandparents.

We picked up Rutledge at pre-school, (Lachlan had stayed home with Mollie as part of his birthday gift)….a day with mom. We took the boys out for ice cream, to watch the ducks, and play at the house. Pizza was ordered and when I left….one was down and one was up….not bad. God speed tomorrow and safe travels- Mollie, Rutledge, and Lachlan. Happy Birthday Lachlan….who by the way has some strong Temple genes in him….watch the first birthday picture of Mollie, on her first birthday-in the wagon- and the present day one of Lachlan.

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About Becky Dingle

I was born a Tarheel but ended up a Sandlapper. My grandparents were cotton farmers in Laurens, South Carolina and it was in my grandmother’s house that my love of storytelling began beside an old Franklin stove. When I graduated from Laurens High School, I attended Erskine College (Due West of what?) and would later get my Masters Degree in Education/Social Studies from Charleston Southern. I am presently an adjunct professor/clinical supervisor at CSU and have also taught at the College of Charleston. For 28 years I taught Social Studies through storytelling. My philosophy matched Rudyard Kipling’s quote: “If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten.” Today I still spread this message through workshops and presentations throughout the state. The secret of success in teaching social studies is always in the story. I want to keep learning and being surprised by life…it is the greatest teacher. Like Kermit said, “When you’re green you grow, when you’re ripe you rot.”
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