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This is a story that goes back some twenty years
To when with the Special Olympics I did volunteer
I worked with the older Olympians who were kind of rough
Caring for them by other volunteers was a job just too tough.

They were sixteen through eighteen and didn’t know their own strength
To keep them under control took me to mental and physical lengths
There were eight young men in my group this Olympic day
I was the only volunteer willing to work with them when the games got under way.

Keeping them together and where they were supposed to go
Required lots of cunning and running by this guy they called Coach Joe.
They worked me ragged and kept me at my wit’s end
But within the first hour we were all best of friends.

They liked to hug me and squeeze me and wrestle me to the ground
Always slugging me and hitting me every time I turned around
They were strong as an ox and didn’t know how easily they could hurt
I got bumps and bruises, one busted lip and was all covered in dirt.

As the medal ceremony began indicating the games were coming to an end
I was exhausted and spent and ready for my body to go home and mend
My Olympians got medals that made them all so happy and proud
They loved hearing the spectators cheering so wondrous and loud.

As I watched from the bench they gathered in a huddle
What were they up to now?  I was a little befuddled
Then one by one they took their medals off and walked my way,
Placing them over my head; “Thank You, Coach Joe”, is what they would say.

Their parents and guardians had tears in their eyes
I’ve never been more touched by a simple surprise
Then we all held hands and the Olympic Song we did sing
For me, in my life, this was the sweetest of things.

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