A Level of God's Perfection

In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a
school that caters to learning
disabled children. Some children
remain in Chush for their
entire school career, while
others can be mainstreamed
into conventional schools.

At a Chush fundraising dinner,
the father of a Chush child
delivered a speech that would
never be forgotten 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 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
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 teammates. 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
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 scheduled to be
up. Would the team actually let
Shaya bat at this juncture
and give away their chance
to win the game?

Suprisingly, 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
teammate 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 Shaya,
who was 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.
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 eighteen 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 eighteen
boys reached their level of
God's perfection."

Author Unknown

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