Free Ray of Sunlight by Brynn Stein Page B

in church. If that wasn’t out of character in a major way, I didn’t know what was. Before long at all, I was introduced… as “Pete’s brother”… and didn’t I just hate that. And I stood up to the podium.
    My mouth went completely dry. I tried to speak and nothing came out.
    “Ah…,” I squeaked, and started again. “I think I’m allergic to public speaking.”
    Everyone laughed… which I’m sure was supposed to put me at ease, but it really didn’t.
    “I wanted to tell you about a… I don’t know what to call it… a program we’re trying to put together for the kids at the Children’s Hospital.” I started again, and they all seemed to be paying attention. I told them about the idea of feeding the kids and their families and needing real turkeys and some volunteers.
    “Not that the volunteers would be turkeys… I mean… I guess the people who wouldn’t want to help would be the turkeys….” I swallowed hard. “Oh, shi—I mean… I’m just really bad at this. And if you knew me, you’d know I don’t do anything I think I’m bad at. I’d rather not try than try and have to admit I failed.” I wasn’t sure why I was telling all these strangers this. It wasn’t something I had ever admitted out loud before.
    But, at this point, words were tumbling out of my mouth without actually consulting my brain first. “But this is important enough to me to try anyway. And nothing is important to me… not usually… but this.” Somehow I was actually warming up to this.
    “You should see these kids. Some of them are burned so bad you can’t really even tell they’re kids. Some are fighting cancer and have been all their lives. Some are in wheelchairs with severe neurological disorders, some of them unable to talk… having to say ‘yes’ and ‘no’ with their eyes and you have to play twenty questions just to find out which book they want you to read. If anyone ever had the right to shut everyone out and tell the world to go to hell and f—uh… and tell it what it can do with itself… it’s these kids. But they don’t. They love life. Some of them are scarred… inside as well as out… and it’s been a tough fight back, but they’ve kept fighting. Not a one of them has given up. I’d be cowering under a pillow somewhere, but these kids don’t.”
    I was finding that it wasn’t hard at all talking about “my” kids. “And CJ… my best friend… he’s dying of cancer. Some days he can’t even get out bed. But on most days… days when most of us would still be in bed… he gets up and puts on this ridiculous clown outfit and goes and cheers up the other sick kids.
    “This whole thing was his idea, really. Well, I brought it up, but he ran with it. I just wanted real turkeys for the kids and their families on a day when everyone else had that. Who wants institutional turkey for Thanksgiving? But CJ said ‘no, we can do better than that.’” I couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering his enthusiasm. “He wants to have a little carnival or something before lunch. Face painting, indoor games… really just anything we can get our hands on. But, between all of that, and the fact that we’re going to try to get all the kids from three wards and their families in a cafeteria ill equipped for that many people… and then actually serve lunch instead of enduring the nightmare of getting that many people in line, cafeteria style, like the place usually runs… not to mention setting up the games and some tables that are no doubt going to have to spill out into the foyer. Well, as you can tell, we’re really going to need volunteers. I understand that it’s a day for family, and I don’t expect many of you to be able to show up. But please, if you can… if you’re not busy that day with your own family… please come spend Thanksgiving with my adopted family. That’s what these kids have become for me.”
    I was actually getting a little choked up, so I decided I was almost