Having a Ball

This past weekend, my husband took the kids to a minor league baseball game with a group from our church. Our little guy, James, hasn't shown a huge interest in sports but we've always encouraged him to give it a try. He played soccer for one year in school, but that was it. James is a tree-climbing, "bad-guy" chasing, pirate-imagining, bike-riding kind of boy. He definitely gets plenty of exercise and plays hard, but he's never gotten excited about organized sports.


But just a few days ago, he was playing baseball with some neighborhood kids. Even though they were a bit younger than him, they had more experience. Yet, they were so encouraging as they all played together and he was so excited.


So when the baseball game around Sunday, even before church, he packed up his little blue baseball glove and a ball cap. You see, HE was going to catch a baseball today. Never mind that he is still on the early side of learning to catch a ball gently thrown to him. Never mind the unlikely odds of a ball coming to him. Never mind the fact that he usually plays with his friends instead of watching a ball game.


When my husband and kids got home, my daughter, Bridgette, told me how she'd danced on top of the dugout with some friends. All the while, James was grinning clutching his ball glove to his chest, obviously hiding something. What was he hiding? An ice pack. What!? 


While my husband and daughter went to get a drink, James remained seated with some of our friends. Believe or not, the ball came right at him – he held his glove over my friend's head (such a gentleman!) and reached, reached, reached for a ball that landed with a big thud on his shoulder. By the time my husband got back, James was surrounded by people including a representative of the ball team who insisted that he be checked out (hence the ice pack).


So much for catching that elusive ball. Not exactly. Sitting several rows ahead of him was a young man who had just graduated from the same school James and Bridgette go to. Eli grabbed the errant ball and gave it to James. 


Wow! Not only did James now have a minor league baseball, but it was given to him by one of the "big kids" from his school. I can't say I'm surprised. Eli is part of a generous and loving family. In addition, the upper grade students at our Christian school do a wonderful job of caring for the little guys. No, I'm not surprised at all. That's just who Eli is. In spite of being on the verge of high school, he was looking out for a seven-year-old boy instead of himself.

James was so touched that he encased his special ball in an overturned plastic toy tub and taped it to his desk. He then asked me to take a picture of him so he could include it in his thank you note to Eli. There are some pretty awesome kids in our midst – and I'm blessed to know several of them.