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Great story Joe! I will pass this on.

Justin

-----Original Message-----
From: midrange-l-admin@midrange.com
[mailto:midrange-l-admin@midrange.com] On Behalf Of Joe Pluta
Sent: Wednesday, June 26, 2002 8:32 PM
To: midrange-l@midrange.com
Subject: COMPLETELY off topic

I just got back from a short vacation with my family in Orlando.  I
managed
to carve out a few days to go see Mickey.  I'd like to relate something
that
happened.  It's completely unrelated to the iSeries, or to programming,
or
much of anything we talk about here, but it affected me so profoundly
that I
wanted to share it.

There inevitably comes a time when pounding the pavement in the
Wonderful
World of Disney that one has to make use of one of the many bright,
sparkling facilities wherein a man can do what a man's gotta do.  I had
occasion to do just that, and as I headed to the sink, I noticed a man
in
[perhaps his mid-30's pushing a stroller.  In the stroller was a young
boy,
age indeterminate, with the unmistakable signs - withered limbs, spastic
movements - of some severe neurological disorder.  The man parked the
boy
out of the way of the crowd, and moved to take my place.  As we passed
one
another, I noticed that the boy also had the distinctive eye cast of the
sightless.  I felt a quick wave of pity start to wash up, but it was cut
off
by this exchange:

Boy: "Are you using the potty, Daddy?"
Dad: "Yes, I am."
Boy: "Is it a nice one?"
Dad: <pause> "Yes, son, it's very nice."

Floored, I wandered out in a little bit of a daze.  Tears came to my
eyes,
but whether they were of sadness or joy or both it was hard to tell.  As
I
type this, they reappear, and it's just as hard to tell.  Sure, I'm sad
for
the young man trapped in a body ravaged by illness, but at the same
time,
that simple exchange told me so much - about the relationship between
the
man and his son, about the boy's comfort in his own circumstances, about
the
fact that despite the suffering the boy and his family had obviously
endured, that somehow the father had built for his child a world
centered
not on self-pity but on joy, where even public bathrooms could be
"nice".
There was more love expressed in some 20 words than poets have managed
to
convey in entire epics.

Vacations have their share of ups and downs, but whenever something
untoward
happened from that point on and I was tempted to view the situation from
an
ill-tempered vantage, I just remembered that little boy, and I was
instantly
reminded that this life is indeed a nice one.  A very nice one.

I hope I continue to remember that little boy.

Joe

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