Depressed and brokenhearted, a man named Bob May stared out of his drafty apartment window in to the chilling December night. His four year-old daughter, Barbara, sat on his lap quietly sobbing.
Bob’s wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer. Little Barbara could not understand why her mother could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad’s eyes and asked, “Why isn’t mummy just like everybody else’s mummy?”
Bob’s jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears. Her question brought waves not only of grief, but also of anger.
It had been the story of Bob’s life, which always had to be different for him.
As a child, Bob was often bullied by other boys. He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was frequently called names he would rather not remember.
From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to…
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