Dear God, This Is Charles

Dear God, This Is Charles

From Chicken Soup for the Kid's Soul

Dear God, This Is Charles

Aman, as a general rule, owes very little to what he is born with—a man is what he makes of himself.

Alexander Graham Bell

Dear God,

This is Charles. I turned twelve the other day. If you noticed, I’m typing this letter. Sometimes it’s hard for me to write, you know. It’s this thing called dysgraphia. I also have Attention Deficit Disorder—oftentimes learning disabilities accompany A.D.D. My IQ was tested at 140, but if you graded my cursive, you’d think I was dumb.

I never could hold a pencil the right way. I never could color in the lines. Every time I would try, my hand would cramp up and the letters would come out sloppy, the lines too dark, and the marker would get all over my hands. Nobody wanted to switch papers with me to grade them because they couldn’t read them. Keith could, but he moved away.

My brain doesn’t sense what my hand is doing. I can feel the pencil, but the message doesn’t get through right. I have to grip the pencil tighter so my brain knows that I have it in my hand.

It’s much easier for me to explain things by talking than it is to write. I’m really good at dictating, but my teachers don’t always let me. If I am asked to write an essay on my trip to Washington and Philadelphia, it’s like a punishment. But if I can dictate it, or just get up and talk about it, I can tell everyone about the awesomeness of seeing the Declaration of Independence in the National Archives or the feeling of true patriotism that rushed through me when I stood in the room where our founding fathers debated the issues of freedom.

If I got graded on art, I’d fail for sure. There are so many things that I can picture in my mind, but my hands just don’t draw it the way I see it.

It’s okay. I’m not complaining. I’m really doing fine. You see, you gave me a wonderful mind and a great sense of humor. I’m great at figuring things out, and I love to debate. We have some great Bible discussions in class, and that’s where I really shine.

I want to be a lawyer when I grow up, a trial lawyer in fact. I know I’d be good at that. I would be responsible for researching the crime, examining the evidence and truthfully presenting the case.

You have told me that you made me special when you said that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. You have assured me that you will see me through, and that you have plans for me to give me a future and hope.

My parents want to help me, so they bought me a laptop to take to school. My teacher is the best this year! I am allowed to do a lot of my work on the computer. We have a character trait book due every Friday, and guess what? She lets me use Print Shop Deluxe for the artwork. For the first time, I’ll be able to show everyone some of the things I have in my mind.

Lord, this is a thank-you letter, just to let you know I’m doing fine. Life’s hard sometimes, but you know what? I accept the challenge. I have the faith to see myself through anything. Thanks for making me me. Thanks for loving me unconditionally. Thanks for everything.

In your service,


Charles Inglehart, age 12

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