Friends Forever...

A few years ago I had the opportunity of babysitting a neighbor boy up the street from where I lived. Bobby wasn't like everyone else I tended. He was severely mentally retarded. Bobby's parents had known before he was born that something wouldn't be quite right, and they had knelt and prayed prior to delivery for strength to accept and love their new child. The years passed, and when I began to tend bobby, he was 16 years of age-- the same age as myself. Although a teenager, Bobby was only the size of a 4 year old. In addition, he was retarded that he was almost a vegetable. Not being able to speak, he could make no requests, and thus could do nothing for himself. He would open his mouth very wide and a small squeak would come out when he was unhappy. Bobby's parents were so good to him that they hardly left his side. The doctors felt that he would live only a few years, but due to the tremendous love from his parents, he lived until age 17. Each Christmas his parents would ask me to babysit while they would go to a few Christmas parties. When I first saw Bobby I was shocked by his grossly misshapen body. Then came my moment of truth. Bobby's mother sat me in the rocker and placed Bobby in my arms. There we were, both age 16, and I had to literally grit my teeth to even gather the strength to look at him. His mother told me that he liked to be held, and so there we were-- for several hours. I was really afraid to touch him at first, but as I got to know Bobby, I realized that he had feelings just like me. I became aware of what it was really like to care for and love someone for what they were inside, and not for what they could do for me. One particular time I will never forget: I was holding him, rocking him, and trying to get him to stop his soft weeping as he saw his mother leave the house. I finally got his attention and he recognized me for the first time. Bobby looked up at me and actually smiled! That little smile was the most special smile I had ever received in my life. That moment will forever linger in my mind, as from it, I learned a most treasured lesson: When you really care about someone the smallest gesture of love means the most. A person doesn't need to give costly presents to show someone they care. It was almost a year later that Bobby contracted pneumonia and died. At the funeral a member of my ward approached Bobby's mother and said, "It's a blessing that Bobby has passed on. It will be such a relief for you." I was next in line, and as Bobby's mother saw me we both rushed into eachothers arms. As tears streamed down her face she said, " Karen, we understand how difficult it is when someone you love dies." I knew exactly what she meant. I wish everyone could have the exerience of a Bobby in their life, for it is through sacrificing part of oneself that we relize the true perspective of life.