The little boy bit his lip as he placed his hands onto the grips of the wheels of his wheelchair; and then proceeded to roll slowly up the ramp. Beads of sweat coarsed down his pale-cheeked little face, and a vein pulsed rapidly in his neck. The young boy was just 9 years old, but he had faced more than his share of mountains in his life.
The other kids watched him, not sure as to react; they were used to seeing him at school, but most preferred not to talk to him; they would have rather left him alone, which is what they usually did. But they WERE interested in the fact that the kid had tenacity.
The boy squinted his blue eyes as he peered beyond thick-lensed glasses; this was necessary because the boy was legally blind, and he had a hard time seeing. He also wore hearing-aids, as he was quite hard-of-hearing without them. Add to this, heavy leather-and-metal leg braces and heavy orthopedic shoes and a big, clunky wheelchair that often got into his way as he tried to navigate his way around school--or any other public place.
The kids knew that Johnny had muscular dystrophy, had weak muscles that didn't work right; they knew he was dying a slow, painful death, and that things were getting harder and harder for him to do. They didn't really understand the concept behind "muscular dystrophy", but they still knew it was bad news: they often thought of the Labor Day Telethon shown every Labor Day on television, and they knew that those who had it eventually died. They also knew that the disease was fatal, those that got it would die.
It was because of this that Johnny was oftentimes ignored altogether or teased unmercifully; the bully kids found it hilarious to find Johnny wobble on his crutches whenever they tripped him in the halls, and they would roar with laughter if the little boy lost his balance and would then fall heavily to the ground. But one particular little boy was rooting for him; he always did.
"Come on, Johnno!" he would shout, "You can do it!" He was really interested in seeing that Johnny would make it to his intended target; if Johnny couldn't he would then take the handles of the smaller boy's bulky wheelchair, and he would push him himself, glad to be helping out his little friend in any way he could. For the two little boys were buddies.
There was never a time when Jose' didn't encourage his smaller friend. He was a Christian, as was Johnny, and he was only doing what Jesus always has done: Show love and compassion towards your fellow man.
This was Christian love that was clearly visible, and it amazed the other little children who were watching Johnny wheel himself to the top of the ramp.
And at the top of the ramp was none other than Jose' himself, Johnny's best buddy. He was going to make darn sure that his little friend was going to make it without any trouble whatsoever.
When two men hit the reset button and decide to go out looking for the good in the world, they not only find it but also a lot more.
P.S. The title is listed on Amazon under Look for Something Good by Robert Drews (not by Robert H. Drews)
