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Berra/Maris/Shaya

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Jerry on Harsha's list posted a fine letter about Yogi

Berra, and I followed it with a perspective on Roger Maris.

Remaining in the baseball theme, perhaps this submission to

Loominaries list by old friend Sadiq, brings it all home:

 

--Jerry Katz

--------------

 

In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to

learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush

for their entire school career, while others can be

mainstreamed into conventional schools. At a Chush

fundraising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a

speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he

cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya?

Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child

cannot understand things as other children do. My child

cannot remember facts and figures as other children do.

 

'Where's God's perfection?"

 

The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the

father's anguish and stilled by the piercing query. I

believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a

child like this into the world, the perfection that he

seeks is in the way people react to this child." He then

told the following story about his son Shaya: One afternoon

Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys

Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you

think they will let me play?"

 

Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic

and that most boys would not want him on their team. But

Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to

play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.

Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and

asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for

guidance from his teammates.

 

Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said

"We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth

inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put

him up to bat in the ninth inning."

 

Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya

was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center

field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team

scored a few runs but was still behind by three.

 

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored

again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the

potential winning run on base, Shaya was scheduled to be

up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture

and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly,

Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but

impossible because Shaya didn't even know-how to hold the

bat properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shaya

stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to

lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to

make contact. The first pitch came in and Shaya swung

clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's teammates came up to

Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher

waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few

steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the

pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the bat and

together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The

pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have

thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been

out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the

pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right

field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

 

Everyone started yelling," Shaya, run to first. Run to

first." Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He

scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the

time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball.

He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who

would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right

fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so

he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's

head. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second."

Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him

deliriously circled the bases towards home. As Shaya

reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him,

turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run

to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams

ran behind him screaming, "Shaya run home." Shaya ran home,

stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their

shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a

"grand slam" and won the game for his team.

 

That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling

down his face, those 18 boys reached their level of God's

perfection."

 

 

---------------------

 

http://www.nonduality.com

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In a message dated 5/12/00 5:46:39 AM Pacific Daylight Time,

umbada writes:

 

<< In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to

learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush

for their entire school career, while others can be

mainstreamed into conventional schools. At a Chush

fundraising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a

speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he

cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya?

Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child

cannot understand things as other children do. My child

cannot remember facts and figures as other children do.

 

'Where's God's perfection?"

>>

 

Dear Jerry,

Thank you for this truly beautiful story. Some part of me asks where's

God's perfection every time l see the starving multitudes in some African

country, ponder the holocaust, forms of genocide and other disasters. Of

course, there are always answers -- individual and group karma, absolute vs

relative reality, etc, if one can feel satisfied with them. But the story of

Shaya carries the most heart-warming message: that every individual's

misfortune provides the opportunity for us to learn how to be more

compassionate, and that it is through compassion -- through our hearts --

that we become perfect.

 

When l wrote my Yogi post l figured there'd be some Yankee fans that would

come out of the woodwork, ha ha. ln 1961 when you were following Maris and

the Yankees, l was rooting for the Reds, who had the misfortune of playing

them in the world series that year. (That was at a time when l followed pro

sports, which l don't much anymore -- but still college hoops.) So l can't

share your love of Maris, but l stand behind my accolades for Yogi. :)))

 

love,

jerry

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Thank you for your response, Jerry. I know the story of Shaya was

embellished, shlocky and unsophisticated (excuse me), but I

recognized

the reality of it and I'm glad you did. I wrote a letter to Gill

recounting times in my childhood a bunch of kids showed kindness to

other kids. Since I wrote that letter I'm thinking of other

incidents.

The stories of childhood compassion that I personally witnessed go on

and on. As cruel as kids are (yeah, we made fun of a lot of kids,too)

they can also be good and understanding depending upon their nature

and how they are raised.

 

In this world some compassion has to go on and on and on. Except for

the 1961 Cincinatti Reds.

 

Jerry Katz

http://www.nonduality.com

 

, GCWein1111@a... wrote:

> In a message dated 5/12/00 5:46:39 AM Pacific Daylight Time,

> umbada@n... writes:

>

> << In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to

> learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush

> for their entire school career, while others can be

> mainstreamed into conventional schools. At a Chush

> fundraising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a

> speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

> After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he

> cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya?

> Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child

> cannot understand things as other children do. My child

> cannot remember facts and figures as other children do.

>

> 'Where's God's perfection?"

> >>

>

> Dear Jerry,

> Thank you for this truly beautiful story. Some part of me

asks

where's

> God's perfection every time l see the starving multitudes in some

African

> country, ponder the holocaust, forms of genocide and other

disasters. Of

> course, there are always answers -- individual and group karma,

absolute vs

> relative reality, etc, if one can feel satisfied with them. But the

story of

> Shaya carries the most heart-warming message: that every

individual's

> misfortune provides the opportunity for us to learn how to be more

> compassionate, and that it is through compassion -- through our

hearts --

> that we become perfect.

>

> When l wrote my Yogi post l figured there'd be some Yankee fans

that

would

> come out of the woodwork, ha ha. ln 1961 when you were following

Maris and

> the Yankees, l was rooting for the Reds, who had the misfortune of

playing

> them in the world series that year. (That was at a time when l

followed pro

> sports, which l don't much anymore -- but still college hoops.)

So

l can't

> share your love of Maris, but l stand behind my accolades for

Yogi.

:)))

>

>

love,

>

jerry

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> 'Where's God's perfection?"

>

>

> That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling

> down his face, those 18 boys reached their level of God's

> perfection."

 

Darn it, Jerry. Every time I read this story, I just let the tears

flow! Darn it, Jerry! :-)))))

 

HAHAHAH and HOHOHO!

 

Peace - That's What I'm Talking About - Michael

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