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Health & Fitness

Frozen On the Diving Board, Would He Jump?

The inspiring story of a little child as told by his group leader.

Each day, many of us awake to the news, and day after day, we're hearing of deadly attacks, murders, burglaries. ... And we can't help but wonder "what is this world coming to?" I won't lie, I'm one of the people thinking that, too. I'm sure many of you out there are as well. But, from time to time, little things in life happen right in front of us that remind us that everything is going to be OK.

The following is a true story, although certain names have been changed as to not reveal any identities. Enjoy.

As part of my job duties, I sometimes find myself working with a group of children in a recreational setting. I've worked with kids since the age of 13, and even before that as my family is full of kids, me being one of seven children. It's a nice change of pace to find myself working with them, a break from the daily office routine. Summer camp is an exciting time in the parks and recreation profession, and it's an exciting time for the kids, as well. Especially when they take part in programming offered by your. I may be a little biased, but Dunedin has some of the for children in the state, if not the country, and children growing up in the program realize it when they're older, myself included. I grew up here, and I grew up in our parks and our community centers. I looked up to my group leaders, saw them as mentors, and to this day, still do. In fact, I get to work with a few now that I'm employed in the field. 

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So when I get the opportunity to work with kids, I remember the times I had and I try to recreate that atmosphere of fun — old-school summer fun. And I think I do a pretty good job at it.

In the years I've worked with kids, I think to myself, "I've seen just about everything." There isn't much a kid could do that would surprise me anymore, especially after spending summer upon summer with them. But something happened this past summer that made me realize these kids are much smarter than we give them credit for. It also made me proud to be their group leader when I saw this random act. 

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On the first day of camp for this week in particular, a shy little boy was sitting toward the back of the group. He didn't talk to anyone else. It was obvious that the group had bonded over the previous weeks, and this was his first time in a camp setting. His father came up to me, and he pulled me aside. “That's my son, Simon. He's, well ... a little different. He's a good kid, just a little slower than the others. I think he might have Asperger's [Syndrome].”

Now, to a group leader with 26 kids, this might have sounded daunting, but I grew up in a family with several autistic children, my own brother included, so I was already prepared for this. I went over to the boy and introduced myself. I sat down next to him.

“Hi Simon, I'm Mr. Mat. We're going to have an awesome week together.”

He smiled and looked a little nervous all at the same time.

Over the course of the week, Simon and I bonded. I walked with him when our group traveled around the park complex, and I asked him about his day and where he goes to school. He was full of information, too. He even made a couple of jokes. This 7-year-old was impressive, and I could only wonder if his family realized this as well. One morning, he came up to me and recited our entire schedule for the day, a task that even the trained adult couldn't do. I was impressed.

Wednesday was a typical summer day: nearly 100 degrees outside and the sun shining down. It was the first day in a couple that it hadn't rained. The best part? It was our group's turn to visit the community pool. My group was very excited and I promised them that we would get there as soon as lunch time was over so we got some time in before any rain could come down on their day. We traveled over to the pool, which is a short walk from our , and the kids quickly dove in to immerse themselves in the cool waters. I looked around for Simon. He was ready to go, all decked out in his swim gear, and in line for the swim test. I was a little worried for him, I won't lie. I hoped that he would pass and could swim with the other kids. A few minutes later, he walked over to me as I was talking to some of the children, high-fived me, and proclaimed, “I passed.” I was proud of him. Little did I know what was about to happen.

I'm in the pool with the kids and a couple of my teen volunteers assisting me, when I hear the lifeguard blow the whistle. I quickly scanned to see what was happening. I looked over and there was Simon — standing frozen on the diving board. I wasn't sure what to do. Being afraid of the thing myself, I could only stand there and wonder what he was going to do. He waved his arms as in a panic, and I found myself swimming to the area next to the boards. I hopped out of the water and just said “Simon, you can do it.” He didn't budge. At this point, one of the younger lifeguards got out of the pool and walked over onto the board with Simon. Another was in the pool, just near where one would land after jumping. I watched as the two, obviously dealing with this before, helped Simon off the board. He didn't seem to be afraid of the water; he was simply afraid of making that jump. But he was determined, and, well, a couple of minutes later, Simon was there again, in the same predicament. Again, the lifeguards helped him out.

The next time Simon approached was different. The lifeguards were busy and he stood there, frozen in fear. As I went to swim to that area, I stopped. In the background, I overheard a couple of the older boys from another group chanting something. “Simon, you can do it! Jump!” These were the fifth-grade boys, giving inspiration to a kid much younger than them, and without being directed to do so. As the kids in the pool started to realize what was happening, more joined in, all chanting “Simon! Simon! Simon!” and encouraging him to jump. The hairs on my arm stood up as I was awestruck at the ability and kindness of the fellow campers. This young boy, who had been the last to line up, the last to get picked for kickball, and who was seen by the other kids as “different,” was now the center of attention in this pool of nearly 100. Kids from other groups who didn't even know him started chanting as well. A minute went by.

He jumped.

The scream of the kids applauding was enough to create ripples in the pool. A few even jumped out and ran over to Simon as he exited the diving area, congratulating him on his jump. I was there, too. He gave me a high-five and said something that I can still hear so clearly in my mind:

“I knew I could do it, I just needed to smile.”

He was so proud of this accomplishment, and he had every right to be. I was just as proud.

Moments like these are little achievements in a child's life which helps to propel them forward. I may never see Simon again, but I can only hope that this accomplishment helped him. I can only hope that we did our small part in his life to make it better for that week. I can't speak for others, but that's why I do the job I do. Because I believe in the spirit of these children and I believe that we can certainly make a difference. I was proud that day to be in the profession I'm in. It re-energized me and made me feel like the world isn't as bad as we all think it is.

This was one of those stories that I contemplated writing, but I felt that it was important to share that the world is a little brighter today because of the encouragement that these children gave one another. In a world where death and sorrow seem to be an everyday thing, a little light goes a long way.

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