This is a letter my friend Robert wrote and shared with me in February of 2019. It touches parts of my soul and connects my need for connectedness between people and being outdoors. Here is what Rob wrote:

[A Letter from Robert – February 2019] // “Let’s go try it again,” encouraged my mom.  I resisted and it really was the last thing I wanted to go and do.  It was hard, I wasn’t very good, and it took me such a long time just to make 1 throw.  Yet, eventually I relented, and we would go outside and play catch between the trees on Howard Ave.  I was probably around 6 or 7 and learning to play catch.  But it wasn’t as easy as catching the ball in the glove and throwing it back. My parents and I spent hours figuring out a way for me to catch and throw a baseball without using my right hand.  I remember being so upset at times at the process, frustrated at the fact that it wasn’t as easy as the other kids. When it came to sports, nothing ever was.  As I learned how to play catch, other kids would often ask me if I knew about Jim Abbott, the 1 handed major league baseball player who pitched a no-hitter for the Yankees.  I’ve always thought it would be cool to play catch with him one day.  And maybe I will.  But when I was 6, I just wanted to be like the other kids, if only for a day.

Over a span of about 4 years in Pennsylvania, my friends and I played roller hockey religiously, usually 5-6 times a week.  Well, most of us play on “roller” hockey.  I never had the muscle control to figure out roller blades so I played on foot.  This group became some of my bests friends in childhood and fully accepted me and my “normal.” The memories I have from those times are some of my favorite.  At times, though, I just wanted to be like everyone else.  Anger would boil up inside of me when I knew strangers treated me differently.  The looks they gave, the comments they made, or the actions they did.   Why did I have to stand out?  Just treat me like any other kid! Could I not just be like all my other friends and play.  Even if only for a day.

This thought would often cross my mind growing up because in some form or another, I always stood out.  Most of the time it didn’t bother me, but throughout my childhood my emotions went from sad to angry to frustrated to disappointed to acceptance and all of them in between.  And as an adult, I’m convinced that everyone goes through this to some degree.  My source was cerebral palsy.  For others it’s depression or dyslexia or height or chronic pain or family dynamics.  Everyone struggles with something, and I bet most of us wonder, could I just be like everyone else, even if only for a day.

On February 16th, Enable the Children hosted our annual beach outing in Freetown.  The event drew around 1850 people from around the community.  This included almost 500 of our patients, their families, local stakeholders and dignitaries, and others at the beach that day.  We began building shade structures around 5:30 AM and the program began at 11.  The day was a culmination of months of hard work from the ETC team as they worked tirelessly to procure all of the items, reached out to the community for support, invited stakeholders, and organized transport so as many of the families could attend as possible. 

Bus after bus arrived and the beach filled with families fromball around Freetown.  Some came with their child wrapped around their back, while others arrived with their crutches or in wheelchairs.  Most kids could stand, but plenty could not and played games from the sand.  I saw multiple kids that reminded me of myself, running on the beach and playing soccer with the other kids.  There was no 1 disability.  Cerebral palsy, Down syndrome, autism, behavioral issues, developmental delays.  All of our children came out and played together.  Parents talked to each other under the shade and could encourage one another, knowing they aren’t alone in life; hopefully knowing their child is not a mistake and has innate value not based on circumstance, but on a Creator.

My favorite part of the day was as I wandered through the shaded areas, bending down to interact with individual children.  Or was as I walked up and down the ice cream line, saying hi to children and their parents.  Or was it as I walked past a row of 4 kids in wheelchairs, on the beach, peering out into the ocean.  Or was it as I saw a kid who couldn’t walk playing soccer with other kids on the beach, moving around the sand on his hands.  Or was it the kid with developmental delays who grabbed my hand and led me around the beach.  Or was it the girl with Down syndrome who smiled at me and melted the stress away from my body.  Or was it watching an ETC team member carry a boy down the steps so his caregivers could follow with his wheelchair.  Or was it the testimony of a mom who is thankful to ETC for bringing hope back into her family.  Or was it an absent dad who came to the beach outing and hugged his son for the first time in probably months.  I don’t know, but I know Christ hung out with these people.  These people flocked to Jesus, and He embraced them, ate with them and spoke into their soul.

This is the scene following Peter walking on the water:

As soon as they got out of the boat, people recognized Jesus. They ran throughout that whole region and carried the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went—into villages, towns or countryside—they placed the sick in the marketplaces. They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who touched it were healed. Mark 6:54-56

I don’t understand the nature of healing, why some are healed and others aren’t.  I don’t know why some of us seem to carry larger burdens than others.  I don’t know why some people have determination forced upon them due to life circumstances.  But my hope and prayer from the beach outing is that our children and their families felt like every other Sierra Leonean, enjoying the sand and beach and free from the stigma of disability, if only for 1 day a year.

My friend Rob writes and allowed me to share this letter he wrote in February of 2019. He shares his stories with his friends while he is serving in Freetown. I hope this story touches you in some way and encourages you to recognize everybody can enjoy sport – it will differ between people but we All need support, guidance and love. And all of us are capable of providing support, guidance and love to other people in our daily journeys. – Coach Sean Hearne