I saw an old man walking recently. Each step was a struggle. He had only a cane with him, and his right shin was bandaged. My heart went out to him, as it usually does, because he was trying so hard to move forward and making such slow progress.
It reminded me of my grandpa. He used to walk the sidewalk in front of his house for exercise. He was 90 years old and it was slow going, but he enjoyed the change of scenery, however brief. He didn't have to be out there, he wanted to be out there. He was disappointed when the weather wouldn't allow him to take his daily stroll.
There was someone else I encountered in the neighborhood. He walked with a horrible limp. It seemed like each step was painful. I felt sorry for him. Going anywhere took him twice as long because walking was such a chore, not to mention how brazenly people stared. Poor guy, right?
That's what I thought until I learned he had been in a horrible accident and he had almost DIED. Doctors told him he would never walk again. Yet here he was, walking. Oh, it wasn't easy. But he defied the odds and what I had seen as an unfortunate handicap was actually a miracle. What a celebration each labored step was! I am ashamed of my pity. How misplaced it was! I learned a very valuable lesson about accepting people for who they are and never to assume anything.
Go look out your window. What do you see?