Being

I wonder if he knows.

Probably not.

He's bagging groceries. He looks up at the customer, smiles, then goes back to work. Not a word was spoken. But a sermon was given.

I'm in one of the motorized wheelchairs provided by the "Stop and Shop" grocery store and he caught my eye as I rounded an aisle. There was an intensity about how he was bagging groceries that I noticed.

But what I really noticed was that he had Down Syndrome. That he was at work. That he didn't even notice that he was making a political statement. That he was proving myths wrong. That he was picking up stereotypes and smashing them to the ground.

I wonder if anyone has told him.

Probably not.

He's Rosa Parks. He's Emily Pankhurst. He's Harvey Milk.

If God is "I AM" then this guy's, "HE IS". And he is ... and he is brilliantly.

The sheer act of being. Being there. Being present. Being. It's an act of courage. The stares, I'm sure he's noticed. The nudges, I'm sure he's noticed. But he's there. He's working. He's being.

We closed the institutions. You and I. But he is doing something much greater. He's integrating the community. He's making the way possible for others. He's cutting the path.

I wonder if anyone has told him.

Probably not.

But I want him to know, really know, that people like me ... and maybe you ... are really really proud of him.