I just stared at her. I was too shocked at her attitude to speak. Marcy was questioning my decision? Marcy, who introduced me to church? Who involved me in youth group? Who always talked about Jesus and loving your neighbor? Her remarks sure didn’t fit her constant talk.

Finally, I calmed down enough to ask, “Why not? We’ve been friends forever.”

“Being friends and going out are two different things.”

“Why?” I wanted to say more, but tried to hold my tongue. Hadn’t I been taught that in youth group? That the tongue gets you in trouble? I added only, “I think it will be fun.”

“But Jim told me he wanted to ask you.” Marcy rolled her brown eyes. “You know how good looking he is. Plus, he’s a junior. You’re crazy.”

Maybe I was a little crazy. It’s not like juniors ask out freshman every day. And Jim was one of the nicest guys I knew. But my feelings about possibly going out with Jim faded fast. If he really was as great as I thought, he’d understand my decision.

I gazed into Marcy’s eyes. “I don’t get it. Johnny goes to our youth group. He’s around us all the time. He’s like one of us . . . ”

“But he’s different. You don’t go to dances with someone like him.”

At that comment my anger flared. Before I could stop myself I said, “Someone who is in a wheelchair. Someone who talks funny.” My voice became louder. “Someone with cerebral palsy—that’s what you really want to say, isn’t it?”

Marcy pressed her lips in a straight line. Then she moved from the lunch table. As she stood, she said, “Say what you want. I just think you’re making a huge mistake.” She shook her head as she marched across the cafeteria.

A mistake? I said to myself. I don’t think so. As I gathered up my books and left the cafeteria, I remembered I had known Johnny since we were 2 or 3 years old. He lived three houses down from me. We’d grown up together.

We’re in the same grade, now both freshmen in high school. As long as I can remember I used to go down to his house. My mom and his mom are friends. When he was little I enjoyed talking with him as well as playing games. His mom even let me push his wheelchair up and down the block. As we grew older we’d play computer games together as well as checkers and cribbage. He’s the one who taught me how to play chess—and still wins most of the time. Is he ever smart!

I smiled. Mom says I’m special because I’m so nice to him. But how can I be otherwise when he’s always so upbeat? I never think about him having CP. Two weeks ago when I asked him to the dance, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

The Invitation
We’d been talking about the big Christmas formal at school.

“It sounds like fun,” Johnny said. “I bet all kinds of guys want to ask you.”

I looked at his face. It dawned on me that he looked sad, like he wished he could go. I knew he was thinking he’d never get to go to a dance. Before I knew what I was saying I just blurted out, “Would you like to go to the dance with me?”

I’ll never forget the look on his face. His smile seemed to spread everywhere. It must have been 30 seconds before he quietly said, “Do you mean that?”

As I looked at his face, I knew I meant it. “Of course, I mean it. We’ll have a great time.”

Johnny spun his wheelchair around then headed into the kitchen. “Mom, Gabby just asked me to the Christmas formal.”

His mom rushed in, the look on her face even more joyous than the one on Johnny’s face, if that was possible. She stared at me. “You asked him to the dance?”

“I sure did. We’ll have a great time.” She came over and hugged me. From the moment I saw all that joy, I knew we’d have a perfect time.

A Great Time
And I still knew it, even as the dance came closer. I wasn’t going to let Marcy’s remarks change me. Johnny wasn’t my community service project. He was my best friend. He was smart and funny. If girls like Marcy couldn’t see past his wheelchair, then it was their loss. I wasn’t going to let it be Johnny’s loss, too.

Still, I have to admit, I was a little nervous when my parents took me to Johnny’s house the night of the dance. But as soon as I saw him—all dressed up with a tie, white shirt and a blue suit—my nervousness disappeared. His mom and dad were beaming. I could tell they were so proud of him—probably thinking this would never happen to him. I wondered if they bought that suit especially for the dance.

I hadn’t skimped on the way I looked either. After all, this was my first high school dance. Mom had been totally into the spirit of the thing. She helped me pick out the perfect dress, as red as a holly berry and all filmy and swirly. I couldn’t do much with my short red hair, so I sprinkled gold sparkles in it to match my gold sandals and jewelry. As I moved I felt so special—and even glamorous.

Johnny handed me a see-through box. When I looked inside, he said, “For you. You look so beautiful.”

I felt that beauty as I said softly, “Thank you.”

A white orchid corsage lay among the colored confetti. These were the first orchids I’d ever had, and I’ll keep that corsage forever.

I took the orchids out of the box and knelt beside Johnny. He and his dad pinned them to my dress.

Johnny’s parents drove us to the dance and helped with Johnny’s wheelchair when we arrived.

“Can you manage?” his dad asked.

“I should think so,” I said. “I’ve been wheeling him all over town since we were little kids.”

His parents laughed and returned to their van. Johnny and I waved to them as they drove off. Then I pushed his wheelchair toward the gym.

When I pushed Johnny into the gym the principal and chaperoning teachers looked surprised. Johnny had a big grin on his face. Several friends and classmates looked our way and waved. Their glances showed me both surprise and approval.

Johnny looked around our usual grim gym and uttered a “Wow!”

As I gazed around, I had to agree. Brightly decorated Christmas trees lined the walls. Icicles and huge colored balls hung from the ceiling. And imitation snowflakes floated over everything.

The dance was perfect in every way. I took Johnny out on the dance floor in his wheelchair and twirled him around. We were laughing and laughing as we danced. He’d raise his arms and move his body to the music. In fact, he wanted to dance every dance.

Soon other girls asked to twirl his wheelchair. He was the center of attention and enjoying every minute.

While Johnny was on the dance floor with two other girls, Jim came up and asked me to dance. When I looked into his face, I saw a huge grin.

“You look spectacular,” he said as he took me into his arms for a slow dance.

I hoped my heart wasn’t racing too fast. All I said was, “Thanks.”

“You’re a pretty special person,” he said. “You’ve done a great thing.”

I shook my head. “No, the one who did the great thing is Johnny. He’s showing all of us that everyone can have a good time if we only give them the chance.” I stepped back and smiled as the song ended. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I think I’ll try to snag the next dance with Johnny.”