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Saturday, June 12, 2010

If I Had an Artificial Leg...

The postings on this site are my own and don't necessarily represent IBM's positions, strategies or opinions.

Thank You, God, for Not Giving Me That Challenge, K'ayn Eyeen Harah

Last night during a walk beyond my neighborhood, I saw a little boy or little girl -- big curls, striped T-shirt, shorts, no more than six years old, running around in the family's driveway, playing catch with a big rubber ball, throwing it back and forth, perhaps, to her mother and grandmother. They spoke French and wouldn't return my smile and eye-contact. They were intent on one another.

As I walked by, I saw the child's left leg, glinting in the pre-twighlight sun. The leg was made up of silver-colored rods. Before I saw the child, running around with an artificial limb, just being a kid, I wondered whether I could muster the mood to take a walk....

On my walk, I listened to my mom tell me her sorrow at one of her dear friend's recent heart-attack. I've never before spoken on a cell-phone during exercise, but it was so beautiful out and I wanted to share what I was seeing with someone, since Pat wasn't with me.

A child with a metal leg; two octogenarians -- one with a damaged heart and the other, heart-broken over her friend's new infirmity; and me, in the middle, witnessing the:
  • Eager beagle, running alongside, behind his picket-fence as I passed
  • Pink-white rose-bush with enough blooms to bury my face in them without risking thorn-pricks
  • Lithe, high-school girl who nearly smiled at me as she ran by, her blond hair darker on her neck with sweat
  • Shiny, black, Saturn convertible, rounding the corner and piloted by a balding guy older than I, who seemed to enjoy the breeze through the hair he still had
  • Hyperactive Pekingese dog straining at me on his leash and his lovely Indian female walker, younger than I, smiling broadly at me for smiling at the cute dog
  • Professionally-maintained garden of the property next to the also-gorgeous garden maintained by the Master Gardener who lives in the home behind it -- one of Pat's friends
  • Tiny grass-seed, shaped like thin rice, dotting new dirt on the little boulevard above our street
  • Beautiful yard of our property, more visibly so as I approached it on foot than when I typically drove toward it, focused on entering the garage....

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