Behind the Unattractive Door

The story I want to share this week is intended to (in the vernacular of the dance hall) "slow things down a little bit." This is a sad but heart-warming tale of a very small six-year boy with a heart big enough for each of us to learn from. It's a story about a boy I have come to love - even though I've never met him. And I suppose I never will in this life.

And I almost missed it. 

For as long as I can remember - and even before that - I've been a baseball guy. I stopped playing a long time ago but somehow love it more and more every year. As if this year's San Francisco Giants World Series win wasn't enough, a series of fortunate events led me to the 11th row of the second round of the Major League Baseball playoffs.

Giants and Phillies in the heart of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Being a San Francisco fan in that stadium is asking for trouble. We won that night, and it was one of the most fun nights I've had all year. But I sat through some pretty bad insults and contentious glares from the fans around me. And that stressful environment had some consequences.

For the next few weeks as the playoffs endured, I had very bad feelings towards the Philadelphia team and its fans. Looking back, it's embarrassing to say, but I guess that's what the competition in sports can do.

A few days later, I was reading on ESPN.com and saw a link to a story about a boy who was a Phillies fan. I knew it would be a nice story, because past features have been excellent. But this one was about the Phillies, so I wasn't interested.

Well shame on me. Shame on me for not opening a door I knew I would be a good one - because of my pride.

But we've all been there, right?

I eventually got over my childish feelings changed my attitude. As luck would have it, I happened to be watching TV a couple weeks later and the same story about the same little Phillies fan - the one whom I've come to love - came on the screen.

Because my words can't tell it as well as they can, please take a few minutes to see the story of my friend Josiah Viera (the first clip on the page).

What can I say after that?

This little boy has been such a wonderful example to me of enjoying this life as much as possible. It's taught me to laugh and to do what I love to do. It's motivated me to enjoy many of the little pleasures of life that I guess I'd taken for granted.

And the sad thing is - I almost missed it.

All too often for us, petty cares and temporary frustrations get in the way of life-improving stories. What are we missing right now because of pride, fear, or frustration?

I almost missed the story of little Josiah because I refused to open an unattractive door. There was no way I was going to support the Phillies. How grateful I am for my second chance to change and to learn.

If I had the chance to meet little Josiah, I think I would say thanks for teaching me about baseball and having a little fun in life.

And for so joyfully enduring a place in life where none of us will ever be.