I live in a very small town.  Often, if I want to attend an event, it means I must travel to a larger community than my own, navigating unfamiliar roads and the logistics of parking and finding my way.  Last night, I walked out my back door, down the alley I walk each morning, and into the beloved park that is my own familiar place to be.  It was time for the Ben Event — a gathering that grew out of one family’s tragic loss of their child, a gathering that celebrated his legacy by helping other families and other children whose special needs set them apart.  It is a celebration of differences and a time to recognize the Spirit that shows us both our uniqueness as individuals and our oneness with all of humanity.  As I prepared to leave my house, I pulled up my Facebook page and left this status message:  ”Heading out to the Ben Event for a dose of joy.”  I was not disappointed.

I told some of Ben’s story a while back, on the first anniversary of his passing.  It is hard to believe that more than two years have passed since the last time a smiling Ben ran up to greet me with one of his world-class hugs.  As we gathered last night to honor his memory and spread his legacy of love to other graduates with special needs, I looked around at all the people who gathered at the bandshell in “Ben’s park,” one of the places he loved best; and I wondered if each of them was thinking of the last time he had hugged them and greeted them with his spirit of unconditional love.  It still amazes me that one young man — someone people saw as limited — touched more lives in twenty-four years than we could hope to touch in a much longer lifespan.

In the aftermath of the loss of their son, Kent and Ardy Yorgey had an idea.  They would establish a scholarship fund at Emmaus High School — Ben’s alma mater — to benefit a special-needs graduate who embodied the spirit of their son.  They would recognize another graduate who, like Ben, would leave behind the fertile social arena of school and move on to an adult world where jobs would be difficult or impossible to find and where isolation would become a way of life.  They would call attention to the tremendous need of families with special adults and try to make a small difference in the life of one other child like their son.

Small dreams sometimes grow beyond what we can imagine.  This year, the Ben Yorgey Foundation awarded $11,000 in scholarships to thirteen graduates from high schools all over the Lehigh Valley.  The recipients arrived in a stretch Hummer and were greeted by the crowd as the V.I.P.’s they were.  Some  bounced out of their limo with greater-than-average exuberance.  Some were overwhelmed by the noise and confusion.  Some were assisted down the step by helpers who waited with their walkers so they could join their friends at the front of the stage.  Some blended in to the waiting crowd so well that until their names were announced, we were not sure whether they were being recognized or simply along for the ride.  Award certificates were presented, speeches were made, and the winners moved to their front-row seats to await the entertainment.

The Large Flowerheads took the stage; and from the first drumbeat to the very last note, those front-row seats stood empty as the dancing began.  Old and young, each unique in their own special ways, honorees, band fans, families, and friends joined together in moving to the music that set their feet to dancing.  My mind returned to another night in this same park, under the same sycamore tree, when more than a thousand hug recipients gathered for Ben’s memorial service.  ”Ben would have loved this,” I remember thinking on that occasion; and the same thought came to mind as I watched his friends dance and whirl and laugh and clap.

Years will pass; and before long the students who are honored will be people who never met Ben.  As others continue to grow and to age, Ben will remain forever 24; but his legacy of love — his example of the unbridled and unconditional love placed in him by his Creator — will continue to touch others and encourage them to see new people, not as strangers, but as friends just waiting to be loved.  ”Hey!  I know you!” Ben would shout as he approached.  Perhaps he had a special gift for seeing the Spirit of God in every person he met.  Perhaps it was that familiar spirit that he recognized in others.  I certainly could feel it last night as I sat surrounded by all the strangers who were my friends, all because we knew one special young man.

Help keep Ben’s legacy alive for future graduates.  Go to the link above, and click on the Donate button.  Many small acts of generosity combine to create large miracles!