Her name is Terri Calvesbert and she's beautiful.
When she was
less than 2 years old there was a house fire...many will make big of the
details in the ever-present blame game, but I'm relatively sure no one
intended to burn a beautiful baby girl beyond recognition. She cooked in
her crib. It's the kind of tragedy that wrenches the soul, that sells
many newspapers, that inflates the egos of many writers as they tweak
reader's souls with poignancy and then tell themselves "job well done"
before moving on to the next project. Terri, however, continues... and
continues to amaze.
The fire scorched 90% of her infant's body. It
destroyed her hair, nose, her lips, her ears, her fingers and one of
her feet. She's 17 now, and interested in boys. My heart sings when I
think of this girl, for she encompasses....ENCOMPASSES...beauty. I love
her, but then again I pretty much love everybody. But she's outdone me,
and probably always will: she loves the person who started the fire. It
wasn't deliberate, but it was a stupid accident that could have been
easily prevented. And what does Terri say? "It's okay. People make
mistakes." Understand, please, that because of the scarring Terri's skin
doesn't grow and stretch anymore. She has to have surgery just to fit
into her own body, and all of them are painful. Even the reporters, at
least one of whom is lovingly devoted to Terri's story, have lost track
of how many times she's been in the operating room.
You really
just have to see this girl in action. She is something to see. Witness
her hugging her friends and family with hands that have no fingers. See
her go bowling. See her eat french fries. See her smile. But don't take
my word for it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jyUsL2PfclY
I
remember a day not too distant when I raised my fist to heaven and
cursed because something in my daily life didn't go my way. I've raged
in traffic, yelled at loved ones who've disappointed me, been angry at
pets and strangers and even at God Himself. And never once did I at
those times express gratitude that my skin fit, that my fingers could
curl into a fist, that I had lips to form around those words of cursing
or ears to hear the silent hurt that God must feel when one of His
children acts like a spoiled ass. I'm so very important, I thought to
myself. And beautiful! And smart and clever and awesome. Pah! The old
adage holds true...there are those on this planet whose shoes I am not
worthy to latch, and as Terri goes to her high school prom surrounded by
people whose own lives have been transcended by her courage and by her very
existence, I am reminded of my smallness and inspired to greatness by
Terri's own transcendence.
I wish I were a little younger so that
I could be her prom date, maybe even sneak a smooch out of the deal.
You know, one of those real kisses that means something, that forges a
union between two souls...especially when one soul is more mature, more
developed, more lovely, more wonderful than my own. Now THAT'S a smooch,
one for the record books. I live for such smooches, and always (as a bachelor) seek out someone better than myself. But I'm too old for her, and she's too good
for me, although she would be the last to say so. But a man can dream,
can't he? And a man can be inspired by the relentless courage and beauty
of spirit of someone who has transcended human existence in this thin,
material world. Such is Terri Calvesbert. She's my hero. She's my
hottie. She knows how to love and knows it well. Free of bitterness and
resentment, she's a wonder and I myself wonder if I can ever be like
her. But hope springs eternal!
This is not my pity party. This is the opening of my Return
to Writing, long overdue. People are my profession, they always come
first, they are (after God) what is best in life. I once hated life for a
bad car buy from a dealership (well...I DID get ripped off!) and this
angel looks in a mirror every day knowing she will never make the
standard of superficial uber-hotness that plagues the existence of us
all via mass media...and yet she knows more about love and more about
life than some of the greatest romantic or philosophical minds that have
ever lived. I intend to fulfill what God has laid out for me, to do
what I'm good at and what makes me feel good: help people. Watch them
transform. Be part of their transcendence. So I'll take a close look at
current events and the lay of the land, add a bit of wit and sarcasm, a
dose of common sense and a loving slap upside the head and do what I do
best.
But my inspiration is a 17 year old girl in the UK who
laughs at life and loves in spite of loss. Even now I struggle with my
own shallowness as she herself doesn't consider her experiences to be
loss, but calls them gain.
I take some comfort from a rather odd
concept that satisfies my notion of God's justice. He is the author only
of goodness, never of misery and suffering which He hates more than we
do. The odd concept is this: once, long ago, in heaven when we were
souls in paradise and not yet in human form, God asked us what we would
like to do with our lives. When we told Him, He was quite honest about
how that would come about, that there would be suffering involved and
trial and heartbreak. It would hurt, but we would get there. We would
become who we had chosen to be, and God would never force this upon us.
The choice was ours, and we chose it.
I chose to help people
transcend who they are, to be a part of them realizing their own dream
for themselves in Christ's Kingdom, that Kingdom of the Heavenlies that
is coming even as I write these words. Nothing brings me more joy than
to see people step out of and above themselves, and to be a part of
that. Such is my life's work, and one person in particular loved me enough to see through my facades and charades, to see with God's eyes who I could be and wanted to be, and I am thankful.
Terri Calvesbert perhaps chose to love and to spread love.
She went for the big enchilada, and for that she is and remains my hero
and my inspiration and the most beautiful woman I've ever heard of. She
is the patron saint of this blog, in all the strange places it is sure
to go in the realms of politics and conspiracies and spiritual warfare.
Thank you, Terri. I love you too.
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