At the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all physically or mentally disabled, assembled at the starting line for the 100-yard dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win. All, that is, except one little boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a couple of times, and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back. Then they all turned around and went back....every one of them. One girl with Down's syndrome bent down and kissed him and said, "This will make it better." Then all nine linked arms and walked together to the finish line. Everyone in the stadium stood, the cheering went on for several minutes.

People who were there are still telling the story. Why? Because deep down we know this one thing: what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What matters in this life is helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing our course.

I am often asked to describe the experiences of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this – When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy . You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The coliseum, the Michelangelo David, the gondolas in Venice . You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says: “Welcome to Holland ”.

Holland ? You say. What do you mean, Holland ” I signed up for Italy !! I’m supposed to be in Italy . All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy .

But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland where you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It’s just a different place. It’s slower paced then Italy , less flashy than Italy . But after you’ve been there for a while, and you catch your breath, you look around and begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy , and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned”.

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.

But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy , you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland .

If you can’t be a great snow capped mountain,
Be a tree in the valley below,
Where bright flowers bloom, and their fragrant perfume,
Fills the air when the soft breezes blow.

If you can’t be a turbulent river,
Tumbling and rushing along,
Be a nice shady nook, with a cool babbling brook,
Where the little birds sing their sweet song.

If you can’t be a stately cathedral,
With spires reaching high in the air.
Be a little while church by the wayside,
Where the chimes call the faithful for prayer.

If you can’t be a bright flashing signal,
Be a candle whose soft shining ray,
Disperses the gloom and lights up the room,
Where you rest at the close of the day.

If you can’t be a beautiful painting,
In a gallery of prestige and fame,
Be a snapshot of children and loved ones,
On the wall in a tiny gilt frame.

If you can’t be a great Prima Donna,
Sing a lullaby tender and sweet.
If you can’t give a stirring oration,
Speak kindly to all you may meet.

For in this world of commotion,
Misunderstanding and speed,
Faith and love and quiet devotion,
Are somethings this world surely needs.

For life’s like a jigsaw puzzle,
Each one his own place must fill,
If it’s large or it’s small, doesn’t matter at all,
As long as we’re doing God’s will.

So let us be humble and faithful,
As onward through life we must go.
If we can’t be a great snow capped mountain,
Be a tree in the valley below.