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Autistic Kid Sinks 6 3 Pointers - Great Story

HAZE

By HAZE
in Useless Blabber

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HAZE Newbie

HAZE

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Story:

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/02/23/earlyshow/main1339324.shtml?CMP=OTC-RSSFeed&source=RSS&attr=HOME_1339324

Video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBYPaNc57Ik

That is a truly great story. So glad they caught that on video. I can watch that video over and over again. It's things like this that make me believe there is a God. It also reminded me of this story I once got in an email. Kind of a long read, but a nice story. The point of the story in the email I believe holds true when you think about the basketball game and all the other kids' reactions.

In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to children with learning disabilities. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career while others can transfer into conventional schools. At a Chush fund-raising dinner the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that always be remembered 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 whom 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 also 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 team mates. 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 centre 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 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 at the ball 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 the still-running Shaya.

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."

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howienewport Newbie

howienewport

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...ok...this is gay but fuck it...sometimes you need a little gay...just ask gabo...

“How long will you be poring over that newspaper? Will you come here right away and make your darling daughter eat her food?"

I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a

bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice.

Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age. She has just turned eight.

She particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife are orthodox and

believe firmly in the 'cooling effects' of Curd Rice. I cleared my throat and picked up the bowl.

"Sindu, darling, why don't you take a few mouthful of this Curd Rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear. If you don't, your Mom will shout at me."

I could sense my wife's scowl behind my back.

Sindu softened a bit and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. "OK, Dad. I will eat not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this.But, you should..." Sindu hesitated. "Dad, if I eat this entire Curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?"

"Oh sure, darling."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine and clinched the deal.

"Ask Mom also to give a similar promise," my daughter insisted. My wife slapped her hand on Sindu's muttering "Promise," without any emotion.

Now I became a bit anxious. "Sindu, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of money right now. OK?"

"No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive."

Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child to eat something that she detested.

After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All of our attention was on her.

"Dad, I want to have my head shaved off this Sunday," was her demand!

"Atrocious!" shouted my wife, "a girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!"

"Never in our family!" my mother rasped. "She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!"

"Sindu, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head."

"No, Dad. I do not want anything else," Sindu said with finality.

"Please Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?" I tried to plead with her.

"Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice," Sindu was in tears. "And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?"

It was time for me to call the shots. "Our promise must be kept."

"Are you out your mind?" chorused my mother and wife.

"No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honour her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled."

With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful.

On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned around and waved.

I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, "Sinduja, please wait for me!"

What struck me was the hairless head of that boy.

"Maybe that is the â?~inâ?T stuff," I thought.

"Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!"

Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued,

"That boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from leukemia."

She paused to muffle her sobs. "Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all of his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates.

"Sinduja visited him last week and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue. But I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter."

I stood transfixed. And then, I wept. "My little Angel, will you teach me what love is?"

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HAZE Newbie

HAZE

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I saw the story on ESPN and just lost it.. such an awesome and amazing story. The article was great.. thanks for putting up the link Haze.

soo beautiful.. and yes i'm a sap and i cried like a baby :D

NP. I'll admit, I got a little teary-eyed myself.

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pookie23 Newbie

pookie23

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I'm just stating the facts...I've seen fat shot-putters in pickup games get that hot. To me it's the same as some guy or girl never playing hitting a full-court shot...just luck.

Hell, the other team didn't even attempt to put a hand in his face...they should be ashamed for play NY Knick defense in the game.

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