Hope For Humanity

 

 

 

As a kid growing up, I often heard the older folks complaining about the world “goin to hell.”  “The future being doomed” and “Kid’s today don’t know their asses from a hole in the ground.”

(Their words not mine.)

 

I suppose they thought that way because elders said the same about them when they were young.

And so on.  And so on.

 

In essence, negativity breeding negativity.

And I’ll admit, I too spewed my share of such verbal vomit……till multiple sclerosis interrupted my life.  And changed my mindset.

 

As the years progressed (and my MS did as well), I have come to depend more & more on canes, a rollator and a wheelchair.

What did NOT progress though was negativity to others.  In fact just the opposite occured.

I began to find people…complete strangers…of all ages, who were more than willing to help a gimpy guy.

 

 

 

Opening doors.  Holding doors.

Bumping my wheelchair over high treshholds.

Deep potholes.

And curbs.

 

 

I can’t tell you how many people have asked if I needed help lifting my wheelchair from or into the back of my car.

I always decline their invitation because I am too damn stubborn.  But I graciously thank them for asking.  (Maybe the next person WILL need their help!)

Just last week as I was about to hoist my chair, I heard a voice…

“Need some help?”

I turned to see a man about about 90 years old.  His face had more wrinkles than the faces on paper money in my wallet.

“That’s OK, I got it.”  “Thank you for asking though” I replied.

The old boy walked slower than I do.  I wanted to offer him the use of my wheelchair–he needed it worse than I.

 

 

There was the person who unselfishly pushed me across the Cleveland Clinic through seven inches of snow.

 

I held his briefcase in my lap as he huffed & puffed, sled-dogging me to my appointment.

 

 

 

 

 

Best was the time I stood up to get my chair over an accessible curb that was none-too accessible.

 

The wheelchair got away from me and began rolling down the street, gaining speed as the Invacare Express!

 

 

 

 

A woman at a stoplight, reacting with cat-like reflexes, jumped out of her car and sprinted in pursuit of the wheelchair like FloJo in the 100m Final.

 

She returned my runaway chair and drove off, forever being remembered as my superhero in heels!

 

 

Time & time again, countless folks have stepped up to help in my struggles.

Nameless faces willing to lend a hand—or in some cases, legs.

Hmm, maybe there IS  hope for humanity after all.