I am going to hell.

I've pretty much cemented this fact by merely living in Las Vegas, but I just had to post my confession to get something off my chest. Here goes.

During my Freshman year, Vanderbilt had a mandatory Community Service program for my major. You had to complete 1-200 hours of community service in the first semester, and write a reflection paper about the experience. My community service activities were pretty meager (built a wheelchair ramp, did dance marathon, some other activities, etc.) and I really had nothing on which to reflect. What do you learn from cutting 2x4s? I never met the woman for whom we built the ramp, so there wasn't much emotional attachment, and Dance Marathon at Vandy wasn't exactly something I would consider community service.

Anyway, since my offerings were somewhat banal, I decided to throw something into my reflection paper to tug a few heart-strings, and thus cement an A in the class. I threw in Sean. Sean, the blind 13 year-old from New York who came out to ski in Breckenridge while I was there on Spring Break. In my paper, I taught Sean to ski and "feel" the beauty of the mountains that he had only previously heard about. Sean said some pretty prophetic things, and was a great kid with the heart of a lion. Sean went to a "regular" school in New York, yet found ways to overcome his handicap. Sean taught me a lot about myself, and that the simple joys in life are the ones we should treasure most. Sean was a great kid.

Sean, of course, did not exist. I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of blind kids from NY named Sean, but I'm pretty sure I didn't teach any of them how to ski.

As our professor handed our papers back after grading them, he turned to me and asked if I would mind sharing my experience. I had to read the paper to the class. A few of the girls in the class almost cried, and the teacher gave me the "slow clap" at the end, telling everyone they could learn from an experience like this. One of my friends in the class knew there was no Sean, and she had to leave the class because tears had formed in her eyes from supressing the laughter. As I said, I'm going to hell.

I had a solid A- in the class until this point (slept through a test), and I didn't claim the service as part of the course requirement. I didn't count the hours, I just threw it in for the story. In a world of wheelchair ramps and dancing for babies, Sean was more the icing on the cake.

So, that's the deal. I made up a handicapped kid and taught him how to ski. Sean, I'm sorry.