Embracing Our Brokenness

A shop owner placed a sign above his door that said: “Puppies For Sale.”

Signs like this always have a way of attracting young children, and to no surprise, a boy saw the sign and approached the owner; 

“How much are you going to sell the puppies for?” he asked.

The store owner replied, “Anywhere from $30 to $50.”

The little boy pulled out some change from his pocket. “I have $2.37,” he said. “Can I please look at them?”

The shop owner smiled and whistled. Out of the kennel came Lady, who ran down the aisle of his shop followed by five teeny, tiny balls of fur.

One puppy was lagging considerably behind. Immediately the boy singled out the lagging, limping puppy and said, “What’s wrong with that little dog?”

The man behind the counter explained that the veterinarian had examined the little puppy and had discovered it didn’t have a hip socket. It would always limp. It would always be lame.

The boy’s eyes lit up. “That is the puppy I'm interested in purchasing.”

The owner said, “No, you don’t need to take that little dog. If you really like him, I’ll just give him to you.”

The young customer got quite upset. He looked straight into the owner's eyes, pointing his finger, and said;

“I don’t think that's fair. This puppy is worth every bit as much as all the other dogs and I’ll pay full price. In fact, I’ll give you $2.37 now, and 50 cents a month until I have him paid for.”

The man countered, “You really shouldn’t take on this puppy. He is never going to be able to run and jump and play with you like the other puppies.”

To his surprise, the boy reached down and rolled up his pant leg to reveal a badly twisted, crippled left leg supported by a big metal brace. He looked up and softly replied, “Well, I don’t run so well myself, and this puppy will need someone who understands!”

As I reflect on this story, I'm reminded of a similar moment when my own child chose a broken toy from a pile of brand new ones, simply because it looked like it needed a little extra love. I recall another instance where a friend, who had struggled with anxiety, became a source of comfort for someone going through a similar experience - her empathy and understanding helped the person feel less alone. It's a powerful reminder that our unique experiences and challenges can often help us connect with others in profound ways. I've also seen this play out in my own community, where a local support group for individuals with disabilities has become a beacon of hope and connection for its members, who find strength and solidarity in their shared experiences.

..Sometimes even the wise are slow to understand too.