The Year was 2010 and I lived NYC across the street and above the UN.

One day I was headed down 3rd Avenue through the throng of people, when I saw a skinny kid with a Yanks backpack, about 10 years old, "walking" at a decent clip with his grandfather. Their heads were tilted towards one another, talking and laughing as they went, like everything was perfect. And as I scanned down this little boy’s body, I noticed his left leg was gone from the hip down. He supported himself with a crutch under each arm, and he wore a rollerblade on his right foot.

It wasn’t his loss of limb that caught my eye through the busy crowd, it was his countenance and happiness.

What hung with me was that he didn’t let his disability affect him, or at least it didn’t appear that it did. He was moving and shaking like every other person walking the NY beat and he, unlike all the other hundreds of people passing by at that moment, was laughing and enjoying life.

Words cannot describe. First I felt awe-inspired, then thankful, and finally a little remorseful about the little puny stuff that I let get me down. I think about this kid sometimes. He didn’t see me, but he made a profound impact on me. Life is bigger than we think it is!

This kid had Mojo!