The Day Kindness Scored the Winning Goal
Letters to My Son… If I Had One - By Fred Ferguson (GeezerWise)
Dear Son,
I’ve said a lot of things in my life. Some bold. Some opinionated.
Some true, some reactionary. Some just plain human.
But the older I get in our ever-increasingly toxic world, the more I realize that being right isn’t the point.
Being decent is.
Let me tell you about a story that reminded me of that — a story that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my days.
There was a boy named Herbert.
He would never marry.
He would never drive a car.
He wouldn’t do many of the things that people rush through life chasing.
But he was happy. And he was healthy.
And to his father… that was everything.
One day, at a school event for children with special needs, Herbert’s father stood up and said something that no one forgot:
“When a child like Herbert is born, the world is given a rare opportunity —
the chance to show the true essence of the human spirit.”
He shared a memory:
He and Herbert had been walking near a field where some kids were playing soccer.
Herbert looked up and asked,
“Dad, do you think they’ll let me play?”
The father hesitated. He knew how this usually went.
But he asked anyway.
One of the boys looked at his friends. Shrugged. And said,
“We’re losing 3–0. There’s 10 minutes left.
Sure — let him come. We’ll let him take the penalty kick.”
Herbert’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning.
He ran to the sideline, put on a jersey, and stood beaming from ear to ear.
And then… something beautiful happened.
The boys saw him.
Not as different.
Not as a burden.
But as one of them.
In the final minute, they earned a penalty kick.
And without hesitation, one of the boys said, “It’s his turn.”
Herbert took the ball.
Walked to the spot.
The goalkeeper smiled and dove the wrong way.
The ball rolled gently into the net.
Goal.
And then came the roar.
His teammates lifted him into the air. Hugged him. Cheered like he’d just won the World Cup.
And for that one moment… he had.
That night, Herbert’s mother cried with joy as his father told her about the goal.
The next summer, Herbert passed away.
But he never forgot the day he was a hero.
And neither did his father.
If I had a son, I’d want him to hear this…
You’ll have plenty of chances in life to win.
But once in a while, you’ll have a chance to lift someone else up instead.
Choose that.
Because in the end, that’s the goal that matters most.
This letter was written by Fred Ferguson (GeezerWise). If it spoke to you, I’d love to hear back—just hit reply.
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—Fred [GeezerWise]