Last week I saw on TV one of the first Paralympic finalists from New Zealand. Her event was the long jump.
She looked very young, very new in her chosen field. She took a step back, looked one last time at her target, and ran towards it.
She hadn’t known it then, but it was the longest and best competitive jump of her life. It was more than enough for her to win the gold medal.
I told myself while watching, she’s good, but I wonder what made her handicapped, or qualified her to participate in the Paralympics. I probably had that thought because she looked very normal, ordinary, cute even, in her New Zealand singlet.
Then, of course, I saw it. One of her hands was missing. In its place was a little stump where her arm ended.
I was both happy and sad for her.
Thanks for reading!