With Easter just around the corner, my mind keeps wandering to the most memorable Easter of my childhood and a story of personal inspiration that I would like to share.

Thirty years ago this spring, I would witness the first miracle of my life. It was then that Grandpa moved into to the small white house across the street which set the stage for me to watch it unfold right in front of me.

You see, Grandpa was diabetic. In fact, Grandpa’s diabetes had affected him to the point that he had recently undergone surgery to have both of his legs amputated. This is what brought him to the little white house across the street. This is his story: across the street, with both of his legs taken from him. Learning to regain his independence and respect again. Learning to pull his life back together to some normal level of functionality. Learning, learning, learning, and all the while teaching. Teaching his youngest grandson that miracles can happen.

a child’s PERSPECTIVE

As a nine year old, I could not completely grasp the weight of the situation. I could not begin to understand how losing a part of your body would affect a person both physically and emotionally. To me, Grandpa was closer because he needed some extra help. To me, Grandpa now had shorter legs with funny looking socks that covered the nubs just below his knees. To me, Grandpa’s shoes were always attached to his legs, now he just had to attach his legs when he needed them. To me, this is how Grandpa would be the rest of his life, in bed or in a wheelchair, needing help from those around him. What happened next changed my view of what Grandpa would be and what I could be forever.

Grandpa’s surgery came with a few ‘parting gifts’. Grandpa now had a wheelchair. Grandpa now had plastic legs that he would attach just below the knees. Grandpa now had two canes to aid in standing. He was all set for his new life. I remember heading across the street to help out. How many kids got to bring their Grandpa his legs, so he could start the day? Grandpa could sit in his chair with his legs attached and if you did not already know, you might not be able to tell that they were not ‘real’ legs. Grandpa would struggle at first to stand using both canes to hold himself up while he would balance. But this would get better with practice.

right foot FORWARD

Next came the amazing part, something I did not expect to happen. As he stood in place, Grandpa would start to move. Very slowly at first, like a well coordinated machine. Right foot forward, right cane forward, pause. Left foot forward, left cane forward, pause. Right foot forward, right cane forward, pause. And so on, and so on, one short step at a time. Three or four steps each try.

Before long I would see Grandpa from our window. He would be outside, on his own, practicing. Right foot forward, right Cane forward. Left foot forward, left cane forward. He would practice his robotic walk the short length of the yard of his little white house. Next his steps took him a bit further. Past one house, then back. Past two houses, then back. Past three houses, then back. Eventually he would make it to the end of the block and then back.

Daily Grandpa made this journey without fail. He was on a mission. Right foot forward, cane forward. Progress. Left foot forward. Progress.

I did not catch when, but at some point, Grandpa had lost a cane. His trek down the block was aided by one cane alone. Right foot forward, cane forward. Left foot forward, no cane. Right foot forward. Left foot forward, no cane. To the end of the block, then back.

Even more surprising was that it was not too much longer before ‘right foot forward, cane forward’ died away to simply become ‘right foot forward, left foot forward, right foot forward.’ No cane! Grandpa was back on his feet again, literally.

the Easter MIRACLE

Since Grandpa had moved in near us, he had not been attending his regular church across town. He typically went to mass with us at the church down the road. But since Easter was approaching and Grandpa had missed seeing his close friends, we would be celebrating Easter this year by attending service at his parish. Selfishly, I was not too excited. St Joseph’s had a smaller congregation and the priest carried a thick accent which made following along even harder. As a child this would make for a more boring than typical Sunday mass. I was not prepared for the excitement of this particular Easter.

We arrived a bit early since we had to travel. Also, this gave Grandpa time to settle in. Mass carried on as expected, a little slow, hard to understand, until it was time for communion. In case you have not attended a Catholic service, near the end of mass, everyone stands, one row at a time and walks to the front to receive communion. As a kid, this was also my chance to check out the crowd as everyone walked by.

We were a few rows from the front as the ushers passed, allowing each row to join the line. Row one, stand and walk to the front. Row two, stand and walk to the front. Row three, stand and walk to the front.

Grandpa stands. Right foot forward, left foot forward.

I can still hear the words in my head, I do not know who it was or how many people exclaimed them, but they resonate as clear today as if they had just shouted them out: “John’s walking! Look! Look! John’s walking! It’s a miracle!”

Grandpa continued forward. Right foot forward, no cane, miracle. Left foot forward, no cane, miracle. Up to the front he walked. Past row two, past row one, miracle. Across the front to the returning side and then back again. Past row one, past row two, back to row three, miracle.

“Did you see that? John walked! It’s a miracle!” I can still hear them exclaiming. I can still see him, walking.

why the BIG DEAL?

Did I mention that I was nine? This did not make sense to me. This was not a miracle, Grandpa had been practicing. Miracles to me were defined as something impossible happening. Miracles were instantaneous, cloud-parting events. These people were confused. This was not a miracle but rather, hard work and determination by Grandpa. I had watched Grandpa start from scratch and build up to this day. I had watched as step by step, Grandpa moved right foot forward, cane forward, left foot forward until he could lose the cane. I had watched as Grandpa progressed. I had watched as Grandpa created his own miracle. Remember, I was nine. I did not know what I had watched unfold before my very eyes.

time to UNDERSTAND

It was not until years later that I began to fully understand the lesson and to fully realize the gift of what I had witnessed. Not until I had witnessed others’ struggle to overcome their own personal hardships. Not until I witnessed the growth and development of my children. Not until I witnessed failure that could not be overcome. Not until then, did I begin to understand that Grandpa’s journey was a miracle. Not until then did I understand that miracles do not just happen. Not until then did I understand that we make our own miracles through our own personal determination: one step at a time. Right foot forward, left foot forward: Miracle!

Grandpa kept on walking. That summer he went on to take many more walks up and down the block and even to share a dance with two of his granddaughters at their weddings. He enjoyed countless steps among us after that Easter. I have continued to learn from the lessons of that spring, long after his feet have stopped touching the earth. Today when I face a trying situation, be it a small struggle or a seemingly insurmountable challenge, I can think “right foot forward” take a step, and move on.

time for ACTION

Thank you for taking these few steps with me on our own personal journeys. What stories inspire you? What miracles have you witnessed or better yet are you making happen? Do you believe we have the power to create our own miracles? Please add your comments and thoughts below. If you found this story inspirational, please ‘like’ and ‘share’ with someone you know who may need the help of a miracle in their lives today.

Andy Vargo is a motivational speaker, life coach and comedian who challenges you to ‘Own Your Awkward’. He is the author of the Awkward Journal series, host of the podcast, Own Your Awkward, and shares thoughts and ideas in his blog and video series available at awkwardcareer.com.

Originally published on LinkedIn March 25, 2015