Purpose

At the moment I'm reading Joe Mackall's Plain Secrets: An Outsider Among the Irish. I'm not quite finished, but I came across a passage this afternoon that was too good to wait.

The author had gone to his Amish friend Samuel to share the death of the author's Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob had been brain damaged due to radiation treatments back in the 1930s.

Because of this, he couldn't read, do simple math, drive a car, marry, or support himself. But he could be everybody's friend, and be the lucky owner of an endless spirit.

"Some doctor just screwed up," I said, feeling angry about a man's damaged life and fresh death.

"Maybe a doctor made a mistake, but God didn't," Samuel said. "God made Uncle Bob that way because everybody who knew him needed him to be exactly the way he was."

What a beautiful sentiment. I hope that we all are the people that our families and friends need us to be.