LESSONS FROM THE BATTLE FRONT

Kayla recently told me about a little boy who spends most of his day in a wheelchair. When he does walk, it is with the aid of crutches and braces, I believe. This little boy is the brother of her buddy and classmate; and she has seen him at the pool this summer.

Evidently, at the pool, he makes his way to the end of the diving board and tucks himself into a ball and rolls into the deep end then paddles with his arms to the edge. Kayla commented on how neat it was that evidently his parents have treated him as though he could do everything any other child could do; only a little differently.

I so agree.

I saw that little boy today as I was walking around the neighborhood; his family lives one block over.

Before I saw him I saw two other boys ahead of me playing around a pickup truck in a driveway. One was in the back of the truck while one was hiding behind the end of it. Both were armed with giant squirt guns and they were, apparently, taking cover to avoid detection. You know - like all well-trained soldiers.

Then I saw the other little boy come across the street, in his wheelchair (grinning ear to ear) stop at the end of the driveway, lean forward and pick up a third giant squirt gun and prepare for battle.

I, of course, was walking right into a war zone. Each of them stopped and watched as I approached; they lowered their weapons and respectfully waited while I passed. Evidently they were hoping to avoid any collateral damage.

I resisted to urge to stop and watch because I didn't want to interfere with their fun...I mean...battle plans.

Here's the thing. Those two little boys, hiding in and behind the truck, saw in the other little boy a worthy opponent. They weren't going to give him any breaks. Nor were they expecting any less of him than they themselves were planning to dish out.

In their eyes he was just like them.

He could not stomp in mud puddles, but he could drop himself into the deep end of the pool and get himself out again.

He could not run into battle but he could roll in and be prepared to fight just the same.

They were all equal in the battle of the squirt guns.

He was, like them, just finding adventure in every waking moment of a summer day. He was a fellow explorer, a fellow soldier, a fellow cowboy - whatever one of them dreamed up at the moment.

Children don't have to take the blinders off to see the world; they've never put them on in the first place.