Then the man held the little boy higher above the crowd so I could see him more clearly. The full view sent a wave of feeling through me so intense that （if I‘d had them） it would have made my knees buckle.
The bright-eyed boy was just like me. No arms. No legs. He even had a little left foot like mine. Though he was only nineteen months old， he was exactly like me. I understood why the two men were so eager for me to see him. As I later learned， this boy’s name is Daniel Martinez， the son of Chris and Patty.
I was supposed to be preparing for my speech， but seeing Daniel—seeing myself in that child—triggered such a swirl of feelings that I couldn‘t think straight. I first felt compassion for him and his family. But then sharp memories and anguished emotions bombarded me as I was vividly brought back to how I had felt at about that age， and I realized that he must have been going through the same things.
I know how he feels， I thought. I’ve already been through what he will experience. Looking at Daniel， I felt this incredible connection and a surge of empathy for him. Old feelings of insecurity， frustration， and loneliness flooded back， pulling the air out of my lungs. I felt like I was baking under the stage lights. I felt woozy. It wasn‘t a panic attack exactly； the vision of this boy in front of me touched the boy inside me.
Then I had a revelation that brought a sense of calm. When I was growing up， I had no one who shared my situation who could help guide me， but now Daniel has someone. I can help him. My parents can help his parents. He doesn’t have to go through what I went through. Perhaps I can spare him some of the pain that I had to endure. Here I could clearly see that as difficult as it might be to live without limbs， my life still had value to be shared. There was nothing I lacked that would prevent me from making a difference in the world. My joy would be to encourage and inspire others. Even if I didn‘t change this planet as much as I would like， I’d still know with certainty that my life was not wasted. I was and am determined to make a contribution. You should believe in your power to do the same.
Life without meaning has no hope. Life without hope has no faith. If you find a way to contribute， you will find your meaning， and hope and faith will naturally follow and accompany you into your future.
My visit to the Knott Avenue church was intended to inspire and encourage others. Though seeing a boy so much like me fl oating over the crowd initially threw me off， he was a powerful confirmation of the difference I could make in the lives of many people， especially those facing major challenges， such as Daniel and his parents.
This encounter was so compelling that I had to share what I was seeing and feeling with the congregation， so I invited Daniel‘s parents to bring him up to the podium.
“There are no coincidences in life，” I said. “Every breath， every step is ordained by God. It was no coincidence that another boy with no arms and no legs is in this room.”
As I said that， Daniel flashed a radiant smile， captivating everyone in the church. The congregation fell silent as his father held him upright and alongside me. The sight of us together， a young man and an infant with shared challenges， beaming at each other， set off weeping and sniffling in the pews around us.
I don’t cry easily， but as everyone around me unleashed a flood of tears， I couldn‘t help but get swept up too. At home that night， I remember saying not a single word. I kept thinking of this child and how he must be feeling just what I’d felt at his age. I thought also of how he would feel as his awareness grew， as he encountered the cruelties and rejection I‘d experienced. I was sad for him and the suffering he likely would endure， but then I was heartened because I knew my parents and I could ease his burden and even light hope in his heart. I couldn’t wait to tell my parents because I knew they would be eager to meet this boy and to give him and his parents hope. My mum and dad had been through so much and they‘d had no one to guide them. I knew they would be grateful for the opportunity to help this family.
MOMENT OF MEANING
It had been a surreal， awestruck moment for me. I had been speechless （a rarity）， and when Daniel looked up at me， my heart had melted. I still thought of myself as a kid， and having never seen anybody else like me， I badly wanted to know I wasn’t alone， that I wasn‘t different from every single person on the planet. I felt that no one really understood what I was going through or could comprehend my pain or my loneliness.
Reflecting on my childhood， I was struck by all the pain I’d gone through just by being aware of how different I was. When others mocked or shunned me， it heightened the hurt all the more. But compared to the infinite mercy and glory and power of God I was now feeling because of this moment with Daniel， my pain was suddenly insignificant.
I would not wish my disability on anyone， so I was sad for Daniel. Yet I knew God had brought this child to me so that I could ease his burden. It was as if God were winking at me and saying， Got you！ See， I did have a plan for you！
TAKE HEART
Of course I don‘t have all the answers. I don’t know the specific pain or challenges you face. I came into this world shortchanged physically， but I‘ve never known the pain of abuse or neglect. I’ve never had to deal with a broken family. I‘ve never lost a parent or a brother or a sister. There are many bad experiences I’ve been spared. I‘m certain that I’ve had it easier in thousands of ways than many people.
In that life-changing moment when I looked out and saw Daniel held above the crowd in that church， I realized that I‘d become the miracle that I’d prayed for. God had not given me such a miracle. But he had made me Daniel‘s instead.
I was twenty-four years old when I met Daniel. When his mother， Patty， hugged me later that day， she said it was like stepping into the future and hugging her own grown-up son.
“You have no idea. I’ve been praying that God would send me a sign to let me know that He has not forgotten my son or me，” she said. “You are a miracle. You are our miracle.”