“May I Tell
You a Story?”
e had strong arms, bulging
biceps, huge, powerful hands,
and a massive chest to match.
Like a boxer or soccer goalie. A body to
be proud of and envied by others. He'd
been that way most of his life. People
noticed him and greeted him with
smiles and admiration.
Until they noticed the rest of him.
He was ugly. His face seemed to have
been formed in a peanut farm. Wide on
top, narrow in the center, and wide again
around his jaw. Even worse, something
terrible had happened with his legs.
Rather than bulging with large and strong
muscles (like his arms), his legs were thin
and dangly, as if made without bones. Just
fleshy strips connected to tiny, useless feet.
People noticed and turned away,
slightly repulsed by this creature that
held only a small resemblance to
something human.
HOMELESS IN SAN JUAN
He was born somewhere near San
Juan, Puerto Rico, to a family that loved
him eagerly, but had no idea how to raise
him. He ate well, and his arms and chest
seemed to grow normally. But the rest of
him was a mess. Nothing fit!
Medical experts examined him, poked
him with a dozen needles, took samples
of everything, and talked quietly behind
tightly closed doors. Their final analysis
was brief. “He will always be this way.
Short. Misshapen. Strong. Weak. Ugly.
And he will never walk”
28 October 2023 AdventistWorld.org
For his fourth Christmas his father gave
him a gift. It wasn’t much. Just a piece of
plywood with roller skate wheels nailed
to the bottom. His mother put a pillow in
the center, rather like a motorcycle seat,
and his father showed him how to push
and pull himself around with his hands.
He was thrilled with his new transporta-
tion and practiced for hours on the busy
streets around his home.
When he got good, his parents gave
him a lunch box, and his mother filled
it with goodies. Then his father took
him, and his board, for a long ride on a
city bus. They got off at the Terminal de
Guaguas, near the governor's palace in
Old San Juan. His father bought a meal
for him from a street vendor and then
knelt beside his board.
“Nanito,” he said. “This is as far as
we can go. Your mother and I love you
dearly, but we do not know how to raise
you anymore. I am bringing you here, to
the center of the Old City, and praying
for God to take good care of you from
here on. May He be with you”
Father gave him a strong hug and then
got back on a bus, waved, and rode out
of El Nafiito’s life.
He sat there a long time, watching
as buses pulled in, emptied of their
passengers, filled again, and then drove
off toward everywhere. Finally, accepting
that he wasn't going anywhere, he
pushed his board a couple short blocks
to Fortaleza Street, the main road com-
ing into and going out of Old San Juan.