I feel it is my duty to inform the world of something that I once thought was intended to affect my chances of having a normal life. Turning back the clock to the year of 1989, I had just entered this world without being told what to believe, or given a sense of what was right and wrong. To myself, I was a completely healthy young infant. I was correct; however, a very surprising and unexpected side effect had occurred in my conception. My right hand was missing fingers as a refult of a minor deformity. Without reason I was bestowed this little gift that would indeed change my life.
Growing up would prove to have its difficulties. As a result of my “setback,” I was somewhat of a social outcast. Associating with others was hard at first despite unconditional love and encouragement from my parents. Every time I faced adversity, they simply told me to never be ashamed and to never let my shortcomings keep me from doing what I want to do. Apart from this, my faith in a higher power also never let my drive falter. Before love from God and love from those close to me molded the basis of my belief though, I was faced with the situation that would bring this about.
One day at age twelve while browsing the attractions of a candy aisle at the grocery store, I could not help but feel eyes roaming about me. As I turned to confirm this, I saw the eyes of a little girl locked on the area of my anatomy that made me different from her. Now as everyone knows, children miss nothing and are rather frightened when seeing something they do not understand. Her eyes became wider and my throat became narrower. Her posture was frozen solid and my interior was echoing with a “Bloody Mary” scream. My heart rate was like a beating drum. I couldn’t help but feeling like I needed to run out of the store.
Shortly after this, I had a conversation with my mother and father regarding how I felt like an outcast. It ended with this question: “Are you simply going to sit there and let this run your life forever?” At this moment, all of reality slowed down for me. I felt the sweat of my palms as it took me several seconds to even realize I was rubbing them together. Trying to sniff, I eventually realized that this action was amazingly easy due to my nasal passages being soaked with fluid. I broke down. Suddenly, there was a stirring deep within me. My faith resided where the pain was now non-existent. I knew there had to be a reason for what made me unique.
I have faith that there is a greater design for my life. I hold true to realizing that what I once thought was a limitation is actually something that truly makes me distinctive. Without being a little different like I am, I do not think I would be the same person that all the people who are close to me say that I am today. For me, it takes more than cold hard logic to find purpose in the good and bad things of life. A much deeper feeling is needed to define my state of being. I feel there is no purpose without faith. This I believe: everything happens for a reason.
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