Having
had some experience as an ugly duckling myself, I saw how
badly it hurt Stewart to be passed over round after
round. I decided there were better things I could do
with my picks than choosing a winning softball team.
One afternoon I made Stewart my first pick. When I
saw how happy it made him, I decided to pick another
clumsy camper on the next round, and another the round
after that. Before long all the really clumsy kids
and poor athletes were gathered around me and I was forced
to start choosing some who were only mediocre.
Did my
team win that afternoon? No. Did we have
fun? Yes. We had more fun before we took the
field than our opponents had all afternoon.
The next
day I chose Stewart first again and continued to choose
someone unlikely on every round. Same thing the next
day and the day after. By the end of the week, a
group of ugly ducklings had stopped dreading the
choosing-up ritual and had started looking forward to our
afternoon games. No longer outcasts, they started
thinking of themselves as my regulars, and though we never
won a game, we had spirit. We were a team and we
loved playing together.
At the
end of the two-week session Stewart brought his parents
over to meet me. They said with surprise that for
the first time, he actually seemed to have enjoyed camp
that year, and they were very pleased. I didn't tell
them what had made the difference. I met a lot of
surprised parents that summer, parents who had dropped off
ugly ducklings and were picking up swans.
We are
all unborn swans, and have within us the power to be swans
and to create swans. A caring schoolteacher or a
physician who is unafraid of showing unconditional love
can be a mirror in which students or patients discover
their own beauty. I've had patients call me asking
for Jack Kevorkian's phone number. When they learned
they were swans, they found self-love, repaired
relationships, and cured their diseases.
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