There was Mark, a dark, muscular boy of about eighteen, confined to a wheelchair as a result of a tragic motorcycle accident. Yet, despite his handicap, he was remarkably self-sufficient. He’d been an excellent role model for the kids at camp, proving that you could accomplish whatever you set your mind to.

Vicky, a pretty, leggy brunette of about seventeen, came up behind Mark as he struggled to get his wheelchair through the soft dirt and up a slight incline to the main house. She offered to help him with a push, but Mark resolutely shook his head, making the well-meaning girl look hurt, as if he had rejected her.

Paul sighed. Perhaps Mark was a bit too self-sufficient. There were a few things he was going to have to learn but they were the sort of things that no one would be able to teach him. He’d have to come to them by himself. Often, people who were handicapped became overly sensitive to other people trying to help them. In a sense, it was understandable because no one wanted to be pitied or condescended to. And all too often, otherwise well-meaning people could become very intrusive, such as grabbing a handicapped person’s wheelchair and pushing it without bothering to ask if their help was wanted. But there was difference between an intrusive person and someone offering to help out of a genuine desire to be supportive, even if you didn’t want the help and felt it was important for you to make it on your own. There was no reason you couldn’t smile and thank the person for the offer, refusing graciously. A simple shake of the head, such as Mark had given Vicky was not meant as a rejection because Mark was not inconsiderate and he probably felt self-conscious about the difficulty he was having—But Vicky had taken it as such. It was plain by the hurt expression on her face.