Loving the Unlovely Dr. Brooks

Loving the unlovely

By Michael Brooks

Have you ever had an inkling to go out of your way to help someone in need? I often get those feelings and love helping people without being asked. Maybe someone has a flat tire and is standing outside by their car on a busy highway. I’ll pull over to help change a tire or jump-start someone's car. I think you catch my drift. I love helping people, as most of us do.

While I was growing up, our family lived all over the world. I was an Army Brat; our family moved to two different Army bases while we lived in Germany (Schweinfurt and Ansbach). I was a shy and timid kid; our move had a huge impact on me. I never got to know my grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins. If you ever made a friend while your parents were in the military, no matter where you lived, you didn’t keep those friends for very long. You’d be on the move to a new base or move across town, leaving that new friend behind.

My dad was transferred to Fort Sheridan, near Chicago, to the 5th Army headquarters. I attended a DOD elementary school while we lived in the States and Germany. Most of us kids were military brats who attended base schools. The transition from a DOD school to a public school in Chicago, where kids knew each other and grew up together, was a new concept to me. I was always going from school to school; that was part of being an army brat. As a shy kid, I avoided meeting new kids. This adjustment was difficult for me.

At my new school, 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. A single mother raised him and was homebound when not in school. His house was close to our elementary school. I remember Jeff 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 to see if I could get him on it. I knocked on his door. He answered, and I said, "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 I gripped the handlebars and the back seat of my bike, trying to balance it at the same time. We walked up and down Algonquin Street several times. Jeff was having so much fun, all the while I made sure that he was living one of his big dreams. After all, as 4th graders, our dreams are pretty simple. Jeff thanked me repeatedly while pushing my bike over and over again up and down the street. I was getting tired, and we headed back to his house. I saw his mother's car in their 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 get back into his wheelchair and continued to yell at me. She said that I tried to kill her son by putting him on my bike, she then walked back into the house and slammed 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? I've always been one to help others live their dreams, to be there for them, to look out for those in need. That's my challenge to you: Are there Jeffs in your midst? Do we have to look around to find a Jeff? Just think: they may be your neighbor who is struggling to put food on the table, or they may need a ride to the grocery store. Many of us are blessed and can help others on many levels. If you see someone in need, try to help them.