When I first met Bob he handed me a card that said he was mute. He drives a wheel chair. He doesn’t’ have full use of his limbs, but his one arm and hand work – so does his face. He radiates joy. When I see him “out for a walk” I see color dancing with him.

            Today he waved from across the street while I was watering the front yard. I walked across to say “hi’. I asked him how he was feeling noticing his arm in a sling. He smiled, shrugged, and lifted his right arm slightly with his other hand and let it drop like dead weight. I said I was so sorry and marveled that he was still going out and about as usual. We looked at each other and I said, “Bob, you give me such courage,” and I put my hand on his shoulder. He took my hand in his usable one and gently kissed it, his eyes misted with tears. Mine did too. “God bless you Bob.” And he said, “God bless you too.” I heard it clearly though I can’t explain it. He blessed me. Bob has made a difference in my life, and other people’s too. God uses Bob to bless us with joy and gratitude for the little things. I never want to forget Bob or the joy and lessons he’s teaches living life to its fullest. I think we will be dancing in heaven together on the same street one day. At least I like to think so. I want to be more like Bob.