The child who saved me...and he'll never know

             I was a counselor one summer at a camp and had a boy named Paul in my huddle. He was fourteen, an eighth grader, heavyset, hairy, and had Down’s syndrome. Paul humbled me; he engaged the day with such uncompromising joy. Every activity was bliss for him even if it was a dumb game like walk quietly through the halls as a ninja, just so we did not disturb those working. In that moment Paul was the best ninja you have ever seen. He loved it. He loved every moment of camp. He was not above sadness, which came at times whenever untruth or dishonesty presented itself to his pure spirit. But he was always present, his heart full of love, never afraid to offer it to anyone, freely and unexpectedly.

            Since Paul was fourteen, the other kids in his huddle were at that awkward age of beginning to notice each other. Paul was part of these conversations and learned about relationships. One day, Paul came up to me, looked me in the eye, and unhesitatingly asked, “Russell, can we go on a date?” I drew back in shock and the fool that I was, I immediately looked to smother the scandal.

            “No, no Paul. You and I can’t go on a date. We’re friends. That’s not how it works.”

            His smile vanished, his eyes filled with tears and he walked off. We could not go on a date because we were friends? That made no sense to him. Our friendship was the precise reason why he asked me in the first place. To his simple heart, one goes on dates with those they love. And who else do you love but your friends? He loved me, and he wanted to go on a date with me. And by my refusal, I communicated that I did not love him…Paul, forgive me…I did not understand. I did not understand how near the Father you were, and how foolish I am. You were one who lived this Story, and I was darkness who could not see as you do. Forgive our ignorance Paul, labeling ourselves wise and mature, and calling you handicapped. Oh, how mistaken we are.

            Paul and his kin demonstrate better than any and every other the point of this Great Story; it is all about grace. And it is always offered free of charge to everyone because there is One, and he has already paid for it in full. Forgive us when we lash it with our stupidity, Father. But if it took the floggings of Christ to reveal the fullness of your love, then perhaps unfortunately, my lashings on your children such as Paul are how I am to learn.

            But Paul did forgive me. Of course he did! He lives out this Great Story. Twenty minutes later in the pool, we were the best of friends. For Paul understood, in the same way our God speaks, that the truest love, the most miraculous grace, most times goes unappreciated. It did when the world began. It did two thousand years ago. I am doing it right now. I cannot thank God enough for his grace because I am unable to understand it. For it is too holy, too perfect, too bright for such sordid creatures like me to look at, much less share in.

This Great Story, which children like Paul already embody, is about coming out of the darkness and into the light. And Paul promises us that the light does not hurt, it only heals. But because we are ‘wise,’ we must be led into the light slowly; the light where Paul has always stood smiling and laughing and whole, ready to go on our date. For that is what you do with those you love. You go on dates.

            Oh Paul, though I am the most unworthy of companions, please do not forget me. And when we meet again on the other side of the mountain in the meadow of the now, pack a picnic basket full of sandwiches and sweet fruit. I will bring the blanket, and if you will still have me, let us go sit on the hillside, under the shade of the trees, and have our date, laugh and talk as friends, loved by the Father. For then, my heart will finally be where yours has always been, right in the center of his unfailing love.