Aiden

A few summers ago at camp I discovered a rare little boy. Though he came to our deaf and hard of hearing session, his disabilities went beyond physical limitations. Aiden was severely neglected for the first ten years of his life, leaving him with no form of communication beyond clicks and gestures.

One day, Aiden ran half a mile to the water front, grabbed a fishing pole, and waved it in the air dramatically. I got the impression that he wanted to go fishing. He and I must have waited on that dock for nearly an hour until, finally, the only living fish in Lake George bit our hook.

Elated, Aiden pulled back on the pole and sent the fish flying into the air. I finally got a hold of the fish and pulled the hook from its mouth. I watched as the boy’s expression changed from excitement to regret. He felt bad for hurting the fish. I held the little sunny up to his face and Aiden grabbed my hands, gave the fish a soft kiss, and then slowly helped me put it back into the water.

That little boy who had never known affection felt driven to show compassion to a fish.

Contributed by Aryn.