Scripture Reading:
1 CORINTHIANS 13
Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.
MATTHEW 19:14
SARAH JOHNSON HAD one prayer for her son, Robbie: that soon he would find a friend. Sarah and her husband, Karl, had moved to the Pacific Northwest because of work. But in the process, Robbie lost every friend he’d ever had.
Robbie had Down syndrome. Back in Rhode Island, he’d attended a regular public grade school where he took instruction in a special-education classroom. The other students were familiar with him and liked him.
“I have lots of friends,” Robbie said with a beam. “Friends are God’s way of telling you he loves you.”
But ever since the move, Robbie had been quiet and sullen. When asked about his day at school, he’d say, “It was bad. No friends.”
Sarah and Karl met with Robbie’s teacher, who told them that he wasn’t trying to connect. She promised to look for opportunities to get him involved.
That night, Robbie came home from school and said, “I wanna run track. Please, can I, Mom?”
Sarah’s heart sank. Even if they were only fifth graders and not very fast, Robbie would be the laughingstock of the school. She bit her lip. God, give me the words here. “Son, I’m not sure that track is the best thing for you.”
“But I could make friends running.” He turned and took four hurried, cloddish steps. “See, Mom. I can run.”
Karl thought it might be a good thing. Sarah didn’t see how. Still, the next morning she called the office.
“We would welcome him to the team,” the school secretary explained. “He would be placed in his own category, for disabled kids. Unless other kids with similar disabilities join track, he’d take first place every time.”
When Sarah and Karl explained to Robbie that he’d be on the team, he raised up his hand and flashed a victory sign. “Let’s do it.”
Every day Robbie came home from practice more excited. When the track season opened, Sarah and Karl took seats in the stands and spotted Robbie in a crowd of kids stretching with one of the coaches. One of the girls noticed that Robbie was stretching over the wrong leg, and she corrected him. Robbie nodded and flashed the girl a smile.
Sarah felt her heart soar. Robbie was making friends.
Later, the announcer called for runners to report for the Special-100. A nervous fluttering rose up in Sarah’s stomach. Please, God. Let him feel good about this.
“What’s that?” Karl pointed as Robbie took his place at the starting line. On either side of him, four other runners lined up, too.
The starting gun sounded, and the runners were off. Robbie led the way, pumping and plodding, and the other able-bodied runners jogged close behind. Robbie crossed the finish line with both arms raised, and the trailing runners enveloped him in a group hug.
Sarah blinked back tears. She looked at Karl and saw him clench his jaw. He cleared his throat and his chin quivered some. “That… was amazing.”
The season continued, and each week the same thing happened. The coach would select the four best performers from the week and allow them the privilege of running in the special race with Robbie. Always they stayed a few feet behind him, pacing him, cheering him on. And always Robbie took first place, fist raised in the air, a victory smile spread across his face.
Finally it was the last meet of the season. Fifteen minutes after the start, the coach ran up to Sarah and Karl in the stands. “We want Robbie to run in the four-hundred relay; is that okay with you?”
“The four-hundred? You mean for special kids?”
“No.” The coach grinned. “The four-hundred relay.”
“But your team hasn’t lost that event all year.”
“Exactly,” the coach responded. “The other school forfeited. As long as we complete the race, it’s an automatic win.”
Sarah and Karl gave their blessing, and two hours later Robbie lined up as the first runner in the relay. The gun sounded and Robbie was off, his feet pumping hard. In his hand was the baton. Then, after fifty yards, Robbie tripped and flew forward, hands outstretched. He skidded along the rough track surface and then settled to a stop, motionless.
Sarah was on her feet, stifling a gasp. “Is he okay?”
Karl leaned forward. “Finish the race, Robbie. Come on.”
From the three spots along the track where the other three runners were waiting, each of them began running toward Robbie. They helped him to his feet. His knees and upper legs were badly scraped and bleeding; the same with his hands and arms.
When it was obvious that Robbie couldn’t keep running, two of the boys made a chair with their arms, and together, carrying Robbie, all four runners trudged to the next station. When they reached it, Robbie handed his baton to one of the boys carrying him.
At that point, the fans rose to their feet, cheering and clapping for the team as they trudged on, all three able-bodied runners shoulder to shoulder, Robbie carried in the middle. When they crossed the finish line, all four runners raised their hands and then formed a group hug, jumping and pumping their fists in the air.
Sarah and Karl had prayed for the acceptance of their son. That prayer was answered a hundredfold. The runners on the field were more than winners. They were a team, and more than that, they were friends.
All the believers were one in heart and mind.
ACTS 4:32