It was the spring of 1994 and my mother went for her last ultrasound that showed up normal just as it did each time she went, but in reality everything was not as it appeared on the ultrasounds. It was an early Saturday morning when I was born and when I came out, I was born with short arms which was not so normal to society. I had to learn how to do things differently than others, but in my eyes I was normal.

 

There were times when I was frustrated with myself because it took me longer to do things than other people, but I accomplished whatever I put my mind to. You see, it wasn't until I was in head start/pre school when I realized that I wasn't so normal. My family never made it known to me that I was different from everyone else, but the day I entered the school building is when I realized that I wasn't as normal as I thought I was.

 

You see, people began to point and laugh and they also made comments that weren't encouraging. I began to dwell on those comments and I began to think to myself, "Maybe I'm not normal after all." I can remember going home after school and asking my mother if my arms were shorter than everyone else's and she began to weep, but in the midst of her weeping she gave me a response that changed my life forever and her response was simply, "Yes."

 

I didn't understand how I could be so different when I could do the things that everyone else could do. I began to ponder and weep because of the comments that were made by the other students. I can remember a time when I was eight years old and I was on the verge of committing suicide simply because I was tired of people laughing and making fun of me. In the midst of me trying to take my own life I heard a voice in the back of my head saying, "STOP! DON'T DO IT." I stopped what I was doing immediately. 

 

I remembered the things that I could do with the arms that I have. I could play T-ball, football, and even basketball. I could feed myself; dress myself; jump rope; lift weights; and even write my own name on a piece of paper all with these hands and arms.

 

You see, it was then when I realized that it wasn't about how long or short my arms were, but it was simply what I could do with them. I also realized that these arms weren't put on my body for me, but simply to encourage someone else. A lot of times we as a people think that what we go through is for us and we don't see anything except the pain that we are feeling, but we fail to realize the joy that it brings other people when they see us smiling and staying strong in a tough situation. 

 

My arms might be short, but if you were to give me a hug, I would be able to hug you back simply because my arms are long enough to do so. Well my friends, the moral of the story is to be appreciative of what you have. You might not have much, but allow what you have to be a blessing to someone else. Use what you have and make the best of it. My arms might be short, but I'm making the best out of them so that I can survive. If my arms never get any longer, I can say, "I am a survivor!"

 

IN PEACE