Micah arrived in Mrs. Holmes’s class with his hair neatly brushed and looking very put together.  But every day after lunch, he’d come back with his hair dripping wet, his face was flushed red and you’d know he had been playing basketball with every fiber of his being.  You’d never guess he had that much energy until it came time for things that mattered to him.  He was able to contain this energy and release it during the most appropriate and meaningful time.  Sometimes Micah would arrive back in the room, fired up from something that had happened out on the court, and Mrs. Holmes within seconds was able to calm Micah back into the sweet, respectful, intelligent boy that he was.  He had to have logic behind his basketball dreams too.  He was well prepared to handle criticism that he might not be good enough to be in the NBA because he “wasn’t tall enough” or because “white players were not as good.”  He would list the names of the shortest basketball players in the NBA, good white basketball players such as Larry Bird and then finally he told the class that the person that invented basketball was a white guy.  Micah’s passion and conviction are things you cannot forget.  At church on Sunday, I came in with my heart hurting, but after praying the sadness and hurt immediately went away.  The message I received was stop it.  Don’t be sad.  And I felt relieved.  Some people get to the end of their life without having lived.  I think Micah lived.  -- Isabel ( Maldonado) Santa Cruz

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