Pre-holiday thoughts

When I was growing up, I lived all over the world; I was an Army Brat, our family moved several times while we lived in Germany, and then my dad was transferred to the south side of Chicago with the 5th Army. I went to a DOD elementary school while we lived in Germany, where all of us kids were army brats and knew each other. The transition to a new school in Chicago where everybody knew each other and being the new kid on the block, as a 4th grader and a shy one, was very hard on me. I noticed that there was a boy (Jeff) who was wheelchair-bound in my 4th grade class who never went out for recess. He had some facial deformities and spoke with great difficulty.

I would stay with him during recess, and we talked; obviously, he didn’t have many friends. I got to know him over several weeks. He was raised by a single mother and was home-bound when not in school. His house was close to our elementary school. I remember us talking about some of his dreams, and his biggest dream was to ride a bike; he talked about that numerous times.

One late October Saturday morning, I decided to take my bike to his house and see if I could get him on my bike. I knocked on his door, and he answered it. I asked him, “Jeff, do you want to try riding my bike?” His mother wasn’t home, and he was so excited that I was trying to make his dream come true. It was a chore to get him from his wheelchair to my bike, but we did it.

I held on for dear life while holding the handlebars and my bike seat. We walked up and down the street several times. Jeff was having so much fun, and all the while, I made sure that he was living one of his dreams. After all, as a 4th grader, our dreams, for the most part, are simplistic. Jeff thanked me repeatedly while riding my bike over and over again. I was getting tired, and we headed back to his house, I saw his mother’s car in the driveway, and as we approached the front porch, I could see his wheelchair had been moved. Jeff's mother came out of the house in a rage and began cursing and yelling at me. I was called every name in the book; she helped Jeff into his wheelchair, continued to yell at me, and walked back into the house while slamming the door.

I never saw Jeff in our school after that; I don’t know what happened. Did they move? Did he go to a different school? I look back and ponder, did Jeff get to live one of his dreams on the bike ride? I’ve always been one to help others live their dreams, to be there for them, and to look out for those in need. That’s my challenge to you. There are Jeffs and Chris in our midst; we just have to look around; they may be that neighbor struggling with putting food on the table or needing a car repaired. Many of us are blessed and can help others on many levels. That is my challenge to you: the holidays will soon be here, so who needs your help?