A Race to Remember

Every year in June my family holds a reunion in the mountains above Cedar City, Utah. It’s been a tradition since the 19th century, and we consider the reunion an important event.

In June 1998, one of my cousins, Tyler Bundy, was there. I hadn’t seen him since he was in a serious car accident a couple of years earlier.

On Saturday morning in a grassy meadow, we held foot races. We started with little children and progressed all the way to great-grandparents.

When it became time for the high school kids to run, no one came forward to race but Tyler. His dad pushed him to the starting line. Tyler then stood with his dad’s help. As the race began, Tyler walked and stumbled across the field. His dad caught him when he fell backward, each time helping him back to his feet.

When Tyler began the race, many of my relatives didn’t notice what was happening. As Tyler progressed across the field, a hush fell over the group. We watched with surprise and amazement as he slowly made his way in this race against himself.

Tyler made it about four feet from the end before hesitating. I heard his dad give him encouragement as he walked the last few steps on his own, falling forward across the finish line.

What Tyler did that day touched me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. For several minutes we weren’t thinking about ourselves, but about someone else as we prayed for his success.

Tyler made us look at ourselves and realize how good it feels to truly love others. We saw the good in the world and the miracles that come with prayer, determination, and help from our Father in Heaven.—Corrina L. Rhodes