Oh, the grace of old family pictures—the stories and the questions they present. It was with great joy recently, that in my mother’s old pictures, I discovered several photos of my Uncle John.
He wore braces on his legs and got around with a walker, and yet, he taught me how to win a race.
John Mahlon Porter was born in 1923. Crippled, due to cerebral palsy, and mentally handicapped, he managed to attend school until the 4th grade. At that time, the teacher told my grandma that there wasn’t anything more they could do for him there. So, he went home to learn the basics of life from a loving mother, father, and siblings.
Years later, after he came to live with us, he attended another school—the “center,” as we knew it, a school for mentally disabled adults. My mother (his little sister) would go to the parent-teacher conferences. There she was told that he was so well-behaved, compared to others his age.
The staff explained that those like him, from his generation, were mostly raised in ignorance. Their families, often ashamed of them, had them institutionalized, or hidden away. The ultimate display of this was Adolph Hitler’s “mercy killings” of such beautiful individuals.
My grandparents viewed their son differently. First of all, they believed that God had sovereignly placed him in their home and that it was their responsibility to care for him as one divinely given to them—one made in the image of God.
Secondly, my grandparents were 5th cousins, and for a very long time, they wondered if the mixing of their genes were somehow responsible for Uncle John’s condition.
As it turned out, their genes were not at fault.
When Uncle John was an infant, my grandmother (then in her early 30s) had to have all of her teeth pulled—with very little pain medication. Can we stop and take a moment to be thankful for how far dentistry and oral care have come?
After the surgery, a nurse came in to help take care of her and baby John. My grandpa worked the midnight shift and slept during the day, and while I am sure he checked in on his wife and son, primary care was left to the nurse.
It was how things were.
Years later, as that nurse was dying, she confessed to dropping Uncle John on his head, severely injuring him and somehow concealing it. She had lived with the guilt and could bear it no longer.
Forgiveness was granted. There were no lawsuits, no bitterness, just forgiveness—and love for the little boy God had given them.
Seven years after the birth of John, God gave them a sweet little girl named Carol Jean.
She adored and accepted her big brother in a way only little sisters know how to do. Together, John and Carol Jean grew up and when, in time, she married and had children, they too learned to love and accept her big brother John.
Years passed and each of their parents passed away. With the death of my grandpa, Uncle John came to live with us. I was fifteen at the time.
This, even though our small house already contained a disabled grandma, a father and mother, four kids, a dog, and (if my memory serves me correctly) my brother Bill’s chameleon. My parents didn’t have much money, but they had a lot of love, and neither blinked in selfishness.
Uncle John was a diabetic and had many special needs. Sometimes people would comment to my mother about how much of a burden her brother must be. She never really knew what to say to this. Yes, sometimes it was hard, but a burden?
One day, while in a store, my mother heard a song over the loudspeakers. “And the load doesn’t weigh me down at all; He ain’t heavy he’s my brother…”
And she stood there and cried.
He wasn’t heavy. He was her brother.
Soon, Uncle John’s new school, the “center,” filled his days. Most events were simple and what the rest of us would take for granted, but he loved every one of them. One day, he came home clutching a dirty, wrinkled piece of paper in his hand as he tried to maneuver his walker up the patio steps and into the kitchen.
“Look, Carol Jean. I got my paycheck.”
She oohed and aahed over his first-ever paycheck. He was 54 years old, and the check was for six dollars and thirty-two cents.
Due to a program generously provided by General Motors, my uncle and his friends did piecework for the company. The tasks were menial, but they did not dampen Uncle John’s diligence or enthusiasm.
One day he brought home a gift for my mother. People would donate used things to the center, and he had spent some of his “tokens” to buy her a pink, plastic beaded necklace. Of course, she wore it.
Other donations to the center included used trophies, and several began to grace his dresser, each with the name of some stranger on it. He didn’t care.
Then, a most memorable day came—Uncle John was going to the Regional Special Olympics! It was beyond my imagination what he would do standing there leaning into his walker, but we wished him the best as off he went in the van with all the excited participants.
Sure enough, Uncle John came home proudly carrying another trophy. Excitedly, he told us how he had won second place in the softball throw.
Amazing! We congratulated him heartily.
Inevitably the question came, “How many were in the softball throw, Uncle John?” It was a natural response for those accustomed to comparisons and the quest to dominate.
Still glowing with pride, he answered, “Two.”
For a few seconds, silence reigned as we worked to digest his answer.
Two.
Quickly, we rallied with, “That’s great!” but our eyes met and twinkled. We thought that was so cute.
We didn’t get it.
Uncle John knew something we had yet to learn.
In a world continually pushing us to greatness, leaving a mark, and being known, we are simply to be faithful—to show up and do our best.
I don’t know about you, but I want to change the world in grand places with sweeping gestures.
Too many times, I have fallen prey to the lie that if I am not at the front of the pack than I am failing. And, can someone please tell me why we even think we know what first place is?
“But many that are first shall be last; and the last shall be first.” Matthew 19:30
We pull back from doing what we know we are called to do because of some self- or man-imposed standard stamped on our service. The possibility of being second in a race of two screams failure.
And yet, we are simply called to run the race.
Our own race.
On the track where we are placed.
At our own pace.
“Two,” Uncle John said.
And with that, he won.
Melissa, this is beautiful, just beautiful!
Thank you, Betsy. I am so grateful for the opportunity I had to have such examples of selfless love around me.
I fondly remember your uncle John, and the care your mother bestowed upon him. Looking back she set a great example for us as we now do the same with Sara. Called to run “our” race; called to be faithful, not first. This has been a great reminder. Thank you!
Thank you, Dave. What a beautiful example of faithfulness and love you and Dawn are also setting for the next generation.
This reflection contains so much truth and love! I remember your Uncle John, and I remember seeing how lovingly your mom spoke to him and about him. I love this story, Melissa. You have a way with words that God will continue to use in your life. I’m thankful for you.
Thank you, Karen, for your kind words and for your faithfulness.
What a beautiful post! My Aunt, who was one of my best friends and passed away unexpectedly almost three years ago, was named Carol Jean. Another very special woman indeed. Thanks for sharing your family’s testimony of unconditional love and forgiveness.
It sounds like we are both grateful for the Carol Jean we had in our lives! P.S. love your blog name!
Thank you for sharing such a touching story. I wish I could have met Uncle John. ❤️
I wish you could have also, Maggie. The two of you would have been great friends!
Thanks so much for sharing your life with us. What a blessing to see how much the “small“ things can teach us.
Thank you, Joyce. I have learned that if I can’t see God in the “small” things, I it is doubtful I will see Him in the “big” things.
Your uncle Jonh has such a touching life story. He was so thankful and excited for the little things in life that most of us don’t take two seconds to think and praise God about. He truly showed us (and me) how we need to be faithful, try our best, and be thankful. For the abilities, life, and body God has given us instead of wanting more form God. Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
You said it all, Katelynn! Be faithful, try our best, and be thankful. That’s how we give Him the glory!