IGNORING HANDICAPS
In a small town in the Midwest where I spent six years of my early youth, there lived a mentally retarded adult named Myron. It was during depression years and there was no place for Myron to be “kept” but at home. He lived there with his mother and they survived on the work that Myron did as a gardener. He had a proverbial “green thumb” and the places where he did the gardening were easy to identify. The lawns, shrubs, hedges, flowers — all showed care, skill, and loving attention. Myron also did “volunteer” work. He cut grass, raked leaves, planted flowers in what would otherwise have been unsightly vacant lots and for widows and others who could not do the work themselves. He was probably best known for his “oil can.” He always carried a small can of lubricating oil in his hip pocket. A squeaky door or hinge or gate always got a “free” dose from Myron’s oil can.…
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