Of all the things, I remember his feet the most. They showed all the signs of never being used. Gordy had been unable to walk for ten years by the time I met him ......I’ve met very few people who don’t admit to some insecurity about their feet. Foot washings, commemorating Christ’s work at the Last Supper are enough to keep many of us from church. But Gordy was silent. He knew I would see everything but he said nothing. It was as I was putting on his socks one day that I realized Gordy was the holy one in all our efforts. He was serving me and in some very practical ways sacrificing the privacy of his body to do it. I was so disabled inside, afraid to let people see my faults and struggles, because my disabilities could be hidden. Gordy’s outward disability became in a very real sense my inward cure. His willingness to let another see his weakness revealed an inspiring inner strength.