THE HEIGHTS OF OTHERS

            Today, as I drove down the street, I stopped at a red light, waiting to turn left. I was just three blocks from the freeway. I looked about and noticed a man waiting to cross the street. He was pushing the signal button as rapidly as he could with his shoulder.

            You see, this individual had some sort of dwarfism. You know, the kinds where his arms and legs appear to be scrunched into shorter limbs, thereby giving a thicker look to the appendages. His shoulder was actually just equal to the height of the button. My guess, I thought the button was about three and a half feet from the ground. The thing that amazed me was his behavior. He appeared to be extremely happy, as he wore earbuds connected to his iPhone, carrying it in one hand while a book or package occupied the other.

            I wondered who he was speaking with; a friend, an acquaintance, or perhaps a romance was playing out right before my eyes? I found myself inquisitive as to the conversation; what was it about? Was it reservations, idle gossip, or personal matters? If it was the latter, I do not believe it mattered that we, the observers, knew about it.

            As the light changed and I drove off, I reflected on the impact of height on one’s life. I know individuals who are well over six feet tall and yet unsure of themselves, lacking confidence. I know two beautiful girls who will never reach five feet tall, both of whom exude confidence and are successful at every turn. These two have experienced prejudice, snide remarks, and bias due to their height. I believe these moments and the choices they made in how to handle them have made them stronger. These are two individuals I am very close to; well, they are my granddaughters.

Anna has been small in every physical respect since birth. She was tested, poked, and blood drawn to check for any “abnormalities.” In the end, she is simply a small individual. A very talented young lady who, from the beginning, has perfect pitch and can memorize a song after hearing it once, maybe twice. As she learned to speak, her words were never singular in usage or even coupled with other sounds. No grunts or groans. Her first communications were in full sentences. Now as she has bad eyes and wears glasses most of the time, the two together, the glasses and the full sentences, surprised many a friendly stranger who would address her. With a touch of baby talk, they would say something like, “You are so cute, aren’t you?”

            To which she would reply, “Why thank you, how are you?” Many adults became speechless at the response.

            Now Anastasia, she and her two sisters have always reminded me of pixies or elves. From the first moment I saw them, they have had cherub faces with kind, loving eyes. Stasia is full of fire, spit, and vinegar, some would say.  This is not an unkind characteristic, perhaps learned as self-defense, as she is the youngest. Nonetheless, Stasia fights for everyone.

            In High School, she participated on the drill team and was even elected the Secretary in her senior year. They took the state championship again. Now she volunteers at a private High School, helping other girls learn to compete and, I’m sure, find confidence in themselves.

            There is something about her that is amazing; she invites you to be her friend and understands there is more to this life than being tall. Stasia has grown; her full height about 4’ 10”, yet her spirit and ability to love are 10 feet tall. 

            So, to all who judge, tease, or in any way make fun of individuals who maybe are not quite as tall as you are, remember, the young man, happily full of life, Anna’s perfect pitch, and Anastasia’s perfect love

Bedrock

 The more life I live, the more to life I discover. The more to life I discover, the more discovery there is in life.
          A couple of years ago, we moved to a new home. The view from the back deck is like a picture. A few home lie below us on a hill and then farmland stretches to the lake. Beyond the lake a few cities have built up, and one can see the roads, which bind them together. From that point the mountains sharply climb to the heavens, most of the year white capped, with dashes of green vegetation dotting the steep rocks.
     At first I noticed a few doors, who without assistance, would close, most if not all the way, by themselves. An inspiring feat for a haunted house, but not for our simple home. After further inspection I noticed most of the doors where not level. The poor craftsmanship always disappoints me. I spoke with several neighbors and found their doors too contained the same qualities. One, we’ll call him Thomas, mentioned his were getting worse.
     Now, not thinking anything more unusual then the rest of us, Thomas then mentioned his basement floor was cracking. Not a good sign. Now from our vantage point one can see how many of the homes below us where built along an old flood plain. In fact if you look further to the North, you can see where the once moving water cut through the terrain. This is were the homes now lie.
Last week, around 7:00 A. M. a crew began digging with large power equipment around the foundation of on of the homes. My first thought was a new patio or larger driveway. We soon learned the homes foundation had shifted over five total inches, thus qualifying for the contractors required guarantee.
The foundation repair crew dug straight down forty feet, though sand, dirty, backfill, until they finally hit bedrock. Then pillars where created, between the home’s foundation and the bedrock. This technique is to place the needed stability on the bedrock and not on the shifting ground directly below the home.
     I have heard of buildings having this technique applied during the original construction, to ensure the building will be on solid ground. Never had I heard of such expense used for a home.
     As I contemplated this situation, it caused me to ponder on what, not my home, but my life’s foundation was. At times I understand I have been as shifting as the sands, and loose as the fill dirt used, rather unstable and thus creating cracks in my soul. I realized the best foundation to support my life, to add strength to my existence, to help me weather bad storms and tremulous times, is the Savior.
     It has taken me a while to learn to stand my ground, have unyielding faith, to know without any shred of doubt, it will be all right. All I need to do is face the winds of change with a smile, firm in my conviction, and trusting in my foundation.