Assignment #6: Special Olympics: Simplicity at its Finest

     I have a confession to make.  At rare moments, usually between the times of 2 and 9 a.m., and especially when I am without caffeine, I can be very blonde.  Aggravatingly so, sometimes.  It was during one of these rare, sans coffee moments that a very forgiving Regan H. mentioned "bowling", and I piped up with a ditzy "What bowling?"  
     "Bowling with Special Olympics," she said matter-of-factly.  
     In a rush, I remembered.  Several weeks back, Mr. M had mentioned the sophomore class was going to go bowl with some special needs folk, and, in my hectic, Oh-golly-I-forgot-my-math-homework-I-can't-think-of-much-else stupidity, I filed it in the back cabinet and completely forgot about it.  Until, that is, Regan reminded me.  My whole day made a U-Turn in .5 seconds.  
     I'd had a bad day the day before, and had gotten little sleep, and had come to school determined to have a remarkably awful day.  Suddenly, that whole plan changed.  And, to my lasting surprise, the first thing I thought of once I worked out the important things (like what I was going to do for lunch when I had no money), was a verse.  Jesus told a parable about a King and his servants in Matthew 25:35-40: 
     "For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"
     Oh, that sure did it.  Me and my bad day had just gotten a kick in the behind by God almighty Himself, and I could do nothing about it.  So I plastered on as good a smile as I could muster, and trudged onto the bus to go bowling. 
     Well, long story relatively short, very little and a whole lot happened in four hours.  I met Kelly, Ricky, Jeff, and Jon, four men of varying ages and personalities that God had created to be very unique.  Kelly is confined to a wheelchair, can only move his arms and head, and has one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen.  Ricky cannot talk or keep still, but he sure can anticipate.  Every time we picked up the ball from the ball return, he'd rub his hands together and just grin and grin as we moved over to the ramp.  Jeff wears a football helmet, has a personal helper, and can't talk either, but he sure can shove a bowling ball down a ramp with gusto.  Finally, Jon can't talk or walk very well, but he loves running, dancing, and holding hands with anyone who will.  
     What really surprised me about each of these men was their joy in the simplest of things.  The ball zooming down the ramp fascinated Jeff; Kelly laughed whenever he hit anything, including the gutter; Jon just wanted to dance to the scraps of music he could hear on the stereo.  None of these men can comprehend anything more complex than baby talk, but they recognize the oft unnoticed joys in life we "normal" people ignore.  
     In my eyes, there is absolutely nothing wrong with these men or those others like them.  God has simply granted them a different knowledge than He has us: He created them to be the lovers of simplicity at its finest, and to show those simplicities to those around them.  
     All in all, I had a fantastic day.  I saw in action the principle that serving others is the greatest joy, and that the greatest joys are often the ones I don't even see there.