What Was and What Is

The upper school students spent the whole day at a ropes course. Most of the activities were designed to encourage teamwork in overcoming obstacles. But toward the end of the afternoon, the course director offered the kids a chance at an individual challenge.

At least several stories above the ground, a single board extended from a platform, like an ultra-thin pirate’s plank. More than an adult body-length away from the end of the board, a trapeze hung suspended over space.

The procedure was simple enough. Climb the ladder to the platform, walk to the end of the board, and dive across the gap to grasp the trapeze.

The braver students took turns strapping into the harness and attempting the feat. A couple of them changed their minds and came back down before reaching the platform. One girl made it partway onto the board, froze in terror, and had to be lowered, weeping, to the ground.

As one of the teacher chaperones, I stood by, my palms sweating in sympathy with the fear in their eyes as, one by one, the students tried but failed to complete the course. A few made it to the jump, but fell shy of the trapeze, and inched their way back to the ground with bruised pride and — adding insult to injury — a serious wedgie.

With each attempt, I glanced at Jacob. He watched intently, a familiar fire burning behind his eyes. After most had tried and none had succeeded, he stepped forward.

I watched him climb the ladder with determination, never looking down. He reached the platform and, without hesitation, walked directly to the end of the board.

A fellow teacher stood beside me mesmerized. She whispered, “He’s going to do it. I know he’s going to do it.”

Jacob remained poised on the end of the board for what was probably no more than ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity. My heart pounded in my chest. I smiled my encouragement, but his eyes were glued to the trapeze.

He bent his knees, swung his arms back, and dove.

I can see it in my mind like a slow motion replay. He flew through space, never taking his eyes off the goal, knowing that the challenge was far more mental than physical. If he focused and believed, he would make it.

A collective gasp and then a cheer. He caught the trapeze and swung back and forth, his converse-clad feet dangling in victory far above my head.

Only a few weeks later Jacob nearly drowned and lay unconscious in ICU, breathing with the help of a respirator. Thus began the biggest challenge of his life.

Now, after more than eight years, I sometimes gasp at the beauty I see in him. The determination. The focus. The faith.

He can no longer leap across space to grasp a trapeze. But when it comes to the secrets of flying, Jacob’s feet are still dancing in places far above my head.