THE CHRISTMAS CARD
by Lissa Lee
I love Christmas cards.
I love to send them and receive them. Many enclose family newsletters
and pictures. I always enjoy reading these summations. It keeps friends close.
This year I received a very special card. It came from my friend Jane. We haven't seen each other in years. Our sons initiated our
friendship. It was deepened when I coached her daughter, Ellen, in softball, many years ago.
Ellen was born with Downs Syndrome. Despite the handicap, Ellen never saw herself as inadequate. Neither did her family. She was allowed to participate in everything.
Fortunately, the community embraced Ellen and
made opportunities for her wherever possible.
It was in the summer softball season and Ellen wanted to play. I was last to pick my players on draft day. Not wanting Ellen to feel
excluded, I chose her immediately. She was ecstatic! No team ever had a more enthusiastic player.
The season began. It was hard to keep Ellen focused. She wandered to right field and
watched insects crawl across the dirt. Occasionally the ball would land near her and her teammates would hustle to assist her. Ellen would rear back, throw the ball, sometimes in the right direction.
Ellen was always happy. Win or lose, it made no difference to her. She just enjoyed being outside with the girls. Batting took a great deal of effort. No matter how hard we tried,
Ellen never fully comprehended the concept. But we kept trying. Every time she came through the rotation, my girls would root for her. No one ever complained or gave up on her.
By the end of the season, we were tied for first place. Going into the final inning, we had last bat. If we scored just one more point we would win! If we didn't, the game would go into extra innings, where anything could happen.
We didn't want extra innings. We wanted to win. We had runners on first and second with two outs. My power hitter, Dana, was up and Ellen was on deck. The tension mounted.
Dana took the stance. The pitcher wound up.
The pitch was far to the outside. "Ball," called the umpire. Everyone exhaled. Pitcher wound up, released. "Ball two!" cried the ump.
Dana backed out of the box. Perspiration beaded her forehead. Fans were static with anticipation. Ellen was merrily swinging the bat around on deck waving at the crowd.
Dana stepped back up. The pitcher threw the ball. "Ball three!" announced the ump.
The pressure was incredible. I clung to wire mesh that lined our dugout. No one made a sound. We waited. One more pitch.
"Take your base!" yelled the ump.
Now the bases were loaded. This was it. Ellen was up to bat. She sauntered up to the plate. She waved at the crowd as she always did. No
one knew what to expect. Then my girls began to chant, "El-len, El-len, El-len!"
The fans took up the cheer.
Soon both dugouts and all the bleachers were chanting, "El-len, El-len, El-len!"
The catcher crouched down behind Ellen. The umpire leaned in over the
catcher's back. The pitcher eyed the batter. Ellen smiled with her bat resting on her shoulder. "Wack!" Ellen had hit the ball!
For one nana-second, time froze. No one moved.
"Run! Ellen Run!" screamed every voice in the stadium. Ellen ran. She took off with lightening speed. In the wrong direction!
As my girls raced for home plate, Ellen was dashing towards third. Her teammates were running around her and yelling at her to go back the other way. The opposing team was so surprised by her hit, they momentarily lost
their bearings. By the time the catcher had realized what had happened and tagged Ellen out, we already had two runners home! We had won the game! Ellen was the hero!
Seconds latter I was doused in icy cold Gatorade and Ellen was riding her father's shoulders around the ball field. Even our opponents were "high fiving" Ellen.
Exhausted we lined up for the presentation of the trophies. We were to be champions, but Ellen's bat was the real celebration. We were all so proud of her.
It was the perfect ending to a challenging season. Over the years, Ellen's mother has kept me apprised of their family through the annual Christmas newsletter. This year's newsletter came in the mail today. Anxious to hear about my favorite ballplayer, I hurriedly ripped open the envelope. Enclosed was the traditional newsletter, but when I opened it, a picture fell out. It was a picture of 21-year-old Ellen all dressed up in a suit, hat, gloves and heels. She had been selected by her high school student body for the Homecoming Court and crowned honorary queen. The newsletter described how it had all come about and the Homecoming events. Ellen had ridden in the parade on the senior maid's float. She had rounded the ball field in a red convertible. Her father had escorted her across the field. And in her suit, gloves and heels, she was showned in centerfield as the band played.
Ellen smiled, waved and blew kisses.
Everyone applauded. Once again, the hero!
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"Baseball, it is said, is only a game. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole."
"JustMom"