The race

his may well be an apocryphal tale, but I'd like to think that it's true -- and it does fit all of my experience of people with Downs Syndrome.

A few years ago at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all
physically or mentally disabled, assembled at the starting line for the
100-yard dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash,
but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win.

All, that is, except one boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a
couple of times and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry.
They slowed down and looked back. They all turned around and went back.

Every one of them.

One girl with Down's Syndrome bent down and kissed him and said, "This
will make it better."

All nine linked arms and walked across the finish line together.

Everyone in the stadium stood, and the cheering went on for several
minutes. People who were there are still telling the story. Why?

Because deep down we know this one thing: What matters in this life is
more than winning for ourselves. What truly matters in this life is
helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing our
course.