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    Bill W
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Castaway Hotel - 4 - 14. Chapter 14 - Playing The Hand You're Dealt

It was several moments before I could think of a way to counter Pat’s concerns. I wasn’t certain if it would be enough, but it was all I could come up with for the time being.

“Pat, do you remember learning about Helen Keller in school?” I began. “She was blind AND deaf, but she graduated from college and went on to do great things. You can too. It’s just that you have to believe in yourself first. You’ll never know what you can accomplish until you try, but I think you’re the type of guy who can overcome any obstacle, no matter how great it is.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he confessed. “I don’t think I could have done what she did, Dad. I mean, I understand what you’re trying to tell me, but I can’t imagine being happy without being able to see. I won’t be able to watch television or go to the movies. I won’t be able to play sports or see what my girlfriend looks like. And what kind of girl would want to go out with a blind guy anyway?”

“A girl who loves the person and isn’t overly concerned with appearance or what others think,” I replied, as soothingly and convincingly as possible.

“Yeah, the ugly ones, fat ones and those who don’t want to make themselves look nice…” but I cut him off.

“And you wouldn’t be interested in them?” I countered, knowing where he was going with this. “You’d let those types of things bother you, even if they were willing to overlook your scars and being blind?”

“I don’t want someone who doesn’t look good,” he confirmed.

“What difference would that make, if you can’t see them?” I asked, hoping he would realize how shallow this was.

“Well, other people would still be able to see them,” he replied.

“And it wouldn’t make a difference if they were nice, kind, considerate, friendly or if they truly loved you?” I pressed.

“Dad, I think I know what you’re getting at, but I wouldn’t want my friends or brothers making fun of me because of what she looked like or whatever,” he announced, as if that were all there were to it.

“Would these same people be making fun of you because you’re blind?” I asked, in order to make my next point.

“That’s a dumb question. You know they wouldn’t,” he told me, stubbornly.

“Then why would they make fun of whatever girl you would want to be with?” I asked. “If they are willing to overlook your problems, wouldn’t they also be willing to overlook any flaws in the person you loved?”

“It’s not the same thing, Dad,” he countered, but then paused, unable to explain why he thought this.

“Yes, it is, Pat,” I informed him. “They wouldn’t make fun or you, because they loved you, and they wouldn’t make fun of anyone you loved or chose to be with for the same reason. If they did, then they are the ones who are not worth worrying about.” Pat started to open his mouth, but didn’t say anything. He closed it again and then sat there for a minute or so, thinking about something. When he did finally speak; it was in a very soft voice.

“Okay, maybe you’re right about that,” he conceded, “but I always saw myself having a cute wife and cute kids. How’s that going to happen now?”

“It may or it may not, but I don’t think it will hinge totally on whether or not you are blind,” I replied. “I do think you may have to reconsider or modify some of your goals, but I don’t think you’ll have to make any drastic changes to your life. With the advances that are being made in medical science and technology every year, someone could come up with a cure for your situation or develop a technology to help you become more productive. It is even easier now then when Helen Keller did it and you might wish to consider what Stephen Hawkings has done, even with his handicap. He has come up with theories to challenge even the most intelligent people.”

“Is he that scientist guy in the wheelchair?” Pat asked, trying to place the name

“Yes, the British physicist who has come up with ideas about how the universe expands, theories about black holes and he even wrote the book, ‘A Brief History of Time’. He suffers from ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis), Lou Gehrig’s Disease, but he didn’t stop trying and coming up with amazing discoveries. He’s in a wheelchair and can hardly do anything for himself without someone to help him or the aid of technology, but he never gave up hope or stopped trying to do what he was capable of. Without his efforts, it may have been decades before we could have come up with the theories or explanations he has set forth, so the advances in his field of science would have been drastically slowed.”

“Okay, I see your point, but why did this have to happen to me? I’m not a great thinker like he is. I’m only average in school,” Pat asserted.

“Look, Pat, I’m not sure if I can explain why bad things happen to good people, but they do,” I responded. “I’ve always heard that the Lord moves and operates in mysterious ways, but there must be some reason why you were chosen in this case. Maybe you are the only one who can do something that needs to be done, but only if you are in this condition. Or possibly it’s the only way you can learn some valuable lesson. I’m just not sure of the reason, but it doesn’t negate the fact there is a purpose for this to have occurred.”

“What could I possibly learn or do?” he whined, not yet convinced by my argument.

“I don’t have the answer for that, but there must be something,” I reiterated. “Some day we might be able to look back and decide what it was, but for now, you’ll just have to try to do whatever you can to not let this effect you negatively.”

“I’ll try, but it will be hard,” he admitted.

“I’m sure it will be, but I also know you can do it, if anyone can,” I told him.

“You really think so?” he asked, amazed.

“I have all the confidence in the world in you,” I assured him. “I’m betting you’re not going to let this ruin your life. It may change it some, but you aren’t going to let it ruin it for you.”

“I hope you’re right, and I’ll do my best,” he assured me. At least he was more positive about it now.

“That’s all any of us could ask,” I concurred.

After our discussion, Pat began concentrating on his dilemma and I was dying to know what he was thinking about. As hard as it was, I didn’t bother him and left him to his thoughts until he decided to share them with me. A short time later, he came out to speak with me.

“Dad, I think I have an idea,” he began, while facing in my general direction. “Maybe we can help some handicapped kids by using some of the money from the charity. Maybe we could help them get the things they need to be able to enjoy their lives more fully or make it easier for their families to deal with them. And if they don’t have families, maybe we could help them get adopted. What do you think about that, Dad?” I could tell he wasn’t sure what I’d think of his suggestion, but I knew he was bursting inside, hoping that I saw the same possibilities he did.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” I agreed, “and I’ll mention it to Sally, the next time we speak. We’d been considering focusing on hard to place children, but I think including handicapped children is a stroke of pure genius. See, already you’re proving how valuable you can be!”

Even though Pat’s chest swelled with pride, I could still tell he was a bit embarrassed by my praise. His blushing gave it away. It was, however, comforting to know he had taken our previous conversation seriously. Although he had first been tempted to wallow in self-pity, he had taken my advice to heart and was already trying to act upon it. It was then that I knew he was going to do just fine.

That night Pat shared his suggestion with his brothers and they all thought it was a good idea too, but they weren’t sure how much the charity could do to help these children. Therefore, in order to better understand what Pat was going through and what he wanted to do for others with handicaps, the boys decided they wanted to experience what it was like being blind as well.

To accomplish this, they agreed to help each other carry out an experiment and split into pairs, with one of each pair having his eyes covered completely for the rest of the day. They were going to do this until late the following afternoon, and then switch places with their partner. The other person was to make sure the ‘blind’ boy didn’t get hurt in the process and be there to help him with whatever he might need along the way. I was glad to see everyone was willing to experience the hardships of what it would be like to be blind, if only for a limited amount of time, and wanted to learn what others had to go through when they could not see. Although it was a limited experience, it would still give them a taste of what it was really like and help them appreciate it better than they could without experiencing it personally.

I must admit it was a rather interesting day, as the boys tried to do for their partners what we had all done for Pat. They tried to help them play a few games, as well as read them stories, magazine articles and comics, but the ‘blind’ boys thought most of those activities lacked the same attraction and enjoyment level they had when they could also see what was going on. Then came the mealtimes. Lunch and dinner were new lessons in patience and adjustment, and there were more than a few accidents along the way. Pat felt honored that his brothers were doing all of this just to see what he was going through, so they could understand it better and help him adjust. He was right. I was pretty impressed by that too.

By Saturday afternoon the ‘blind’ boys were more than ready to regain their sight and switch roles. That did not happen before they discussed what it was like not being able to see and shared their thoughts and feelings with the others who had gone through it at the same time. One particular disturbing time for them was when they awakened during the night or first thing in the early morning and had forgotten about their temporary condition. Some went through more than a little distress during those times, believing something was really wrong with them, before they remembered their experiment.

The next group took their turn at being ‘blind’ and I was pleased to see those who had already gone through this were not taking it lightly and were intent upon giving their partners the benefit of what they had learned. They would let them grope with something for a while and not rush in to bail them out or offer advice. This was because they didn’t wish to interfere with their partner’s chance to learn from the experience, the same way they had. They would even let their ‘blind’ partner become frustrated over their inability to do something, before they’d actually give them help, and then only enough to keep them from giving up. They certainly didn’t want to make this easy for them or let them off without a true appreciation for what it was like. At meals we had a few more accidents – with things getting knocked over, dropped on the floor and some major spills, but nothing too serious. As evening rolled around, the boys led their partners to clean up, but they would not do it for them. Each one of them forced his partner to do everything for himself, and even the limited sexual encounters were strictly a hands-on experience this time around.

Sunday morning things seemed to going along fairly normally, although the boys decided to end their experiment before we went to church. This was because they didn’t want to draw any more attention to Pat than would already be the case. They did, however, continue their research throughout breakfast and while getting ready for Sunday services, but uncovered their eyes once we were in the van. I think everyone now had a better appreciation for what Pat was going through and could better understand his fears and apprehensions. As we drove to church, Pat took a second to thank each of them for going to all that trouble to understand what was happening to him and emphasized it made him feel good to know his brothers were willing to do so much, primarily for him.

Once he finished, the boys told him they learned from it too and it would help them decide how they could best assist him, while trying to make certain he would remain as independent as possible. It was a very proud time for me, watching my boys learn lessons in humility, empathy and cooperation.

By the time we arrived at church, all of us were ready to attend the service as usual, although this time there was a slight different. Pat stayed close to me, holding tightly to my arm, seeing this was one of his rare appearances in public since the accident. He was concerned, and maybe even a little afraid, of the types of reaction he would get from the others, although he couldn’t see how they were responding. I have to admit, there were some stares, but most of this attention was just normal curiosity about his condition. Some of the parishioners even came over to speak to us when we arrived, so they could tell Pat how sorry they were to hear about his accident and let him know they were praying things would work out for him. Pat thanked them, realizing they were being sincere in their good wishes, and then we went in and sat down, waiting for the sermon to begin. After singing a couple of hymns to start the service, a few announcements were read, and then our minister stepped forward and addressed the congregation.

“Today’s sermon will be based on a inspirational piece written by Mary Stevenson in 1936” the pastor began. “I have chosen to use this as the starting point today for many reasons, most of which revolve around people blaming God for all the ills of the world, especially tragedy and illness, and for suggesting that God is just a figment of man’s imagination and a way to explain unexplainable events. Well, I’m here to tell you that Jesus is our rock and our foundation. He is here for us when we need him most, and even though we don’t understand why some things happen as they do, he does have a plan for each of us. I am often comforted by the thought once told to me by my mother, ‘that when God closes a door, he opens a window.’ This has always reassured me and helped me to realize that no matter what happens or how bad the situation seems at the time, God often provides us with another path, often equally as good as the one we were on. I hope this also proves comforting to you and that you will listen carefully to the words I am about to read to you. This simple piece is entitled, ‘Footprints in the Sand’.

“One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him and the other to the Lord. When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it: ‘Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you, you’d walk with me all they way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don’t understand why, when I needed you most, you would leave me.’ The Lord replied: ‘My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”

The pastor paused briefly, to allow those assembled to absorb the full meaning of these words. After an appropriate amount of time had passed, he began again. “If you will trust in the Lord and lean on him during your times of need, he will support you and even carry you when you are too weak to go on alone. When a door has been shut in your life, he will help you open a window and give you other options. If you are willing to look for such possibilities, you will discover his guidance each and every time you need him. He will always be there to help you go on.”

After a few more hymns and some closing comments, the service ended and everyone began to leave. On the way out, we said our good-byes and complimented the minister on his sermon. While we were there, he turned toward Pat and told him he hoped that he too found the strength to deal with his problems and to call upon the Lord for guidance during this difficult time.

“Do you really think he’ll open a window for me?” Pat asked him.

“Yes, my son, I do,” he responded. “You’ll just have to be patient and observant, so you’ll notice it when it does open.”

We both thanked him again and began to head for the van when Sally intercepted us. She greeted the boys and me, but specifically told Pat she was sorry to hear about his situation. Once that was taken care of, I took a second to apprise her about Pat’s suggestion that we help physically handicapped children. We gave her a quick rundown about what Pat intended and Sally thought it was a wonderful idea. She said she would explore it further and look into institutions that deal with such children on a larger scale. We both thanked her and then headed home.

Once there, some of the boys and I began to start our Sunday dinner, when Pat asked to speak we me. I agreed, but he made it clear he wanted to go to my bedroom, so we could talk privately. After telling him that would be fine, I led him in, we sat on the bed and Pat began to ask his questions.

“Do you think the minister was right when he told us God opens a window when he closes a door?” he asked, to see if I believed in what the minister had told us.

“Yes, I do, Pat,” I confirmed. “When he closed a door to me, after my wife died, I often wondered if I’d ever feel needed or find happiness again. That’s when he opened a window, making it possible for me to become a foster parent, thus bringing all of you boys into my life. I believe he did a similar thing later, when our family continued to grow and began to put a strain on our finances. It was then that he guided Mr. Goldman to include us in his will and leave his life’s savings for our benefit. Yes, Pat, God does open windows when it seems he has shut a door.”

“What do you think that will mean for me?” he wondered. “What kind of window do you think he’ll open, now that he’s closed the door on my sight?”

“I have no way of knowing that, but I’m sure something will come up,” I explained, sincerely. “It may just be a way to cope with your condition, new options to choose from, maybe a new insight into your life or a way to help others in similar conditions. Maybe that’s why you came up with the idea of having the charity help physically handicapped children cope with their condition or find new homes. I doubt that suggestion would have come to you without this having happened first, so maybe that was one of the windows he opened for you. There may be others too, but only time will tell and I pray He makes the signs obvious enough so you won’t miss them.”

“Thanks, Dad, and I hope both you and the minister are right,” he finished. As I got up to leave, Pat asked if he could stay there and think about things for a while longer, so I let him lie on the bed, while I went back to fix the meal. I knew he would have to answer many of these questions for himself and I could only guide him when he wished me to, but his greatest struggles would still lie ahead.

Copyright © 2010 Bill W; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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