Unseen Arms

Can you imagine having no arms or legs? What would be the quality of your life? How would you cope? What would your attitude or personality be like? How about the depth of your humor, the level of your faith, or your compassion for others?

Meet the lovely Miss Amy Brooks.

Amy was born with an extremely rare condition called Tetraphocomelia. The result is that she has neither arms nor legs. Adding insult to injury, Amy’s birth parents abandoned her at the hospital, where the staff was asked if they could “put her in a room and not feed her.”

But Amy is defined by none of that. In her humorous and inspiring book, Amy takes you on an amazing journey as she shares her life story and her enviable faith. All throughout, she will make you laugh. She will also make you cry a little. Most importantly, Amy will challenge and inspire you in a way that promises to change your life forever!

Football Baby excerpt:

To hear laughter and commotion coming from any part of the Brooks’ home has never been anything unusual. If our walls had absorbed the amusement and chatter of the passing years, they would be thick enough with vocal insulation to resist the cold penetration of any Pennsylvania winter. The ceilings would sag with weighted humor, and the windows would rattle with persistent goofiness.

Never was it library quiet within those walls. Never was it a museum-like atmosphere. A family circus might best describe it, and the clowns were in abundance. Childish noise was a constant. In time, I became one of the culprits and as much a cause and contributor as anyone.

But there was something different in the sounds on that particular day. Most likely, it was the repeated calling out of football plays that caught Mom’s attention. It was coming from the sitting room. So, she went to investigate.

There were three of us in there–my sister, Myia, her friend, Jenn, and me. According to Mom, I was about a year old at the time, maybe 18 months. That would put Myia and Jenn as being high school freshmen.

It was Myia under center, barking the count.

Jenn was the snapper, feet spread, both hands gripping the ball.

I squirmed and giggled.

When Mom walked in she couldn’t help but to laugh also, partly from nervousness and partly from the insanity of what she saw.   

The ball was snapped. The play was set in motion.

Myia and Jenn roared with laughter.

I giggled hysterically. I had entered the home as a free agent and was put in the game as a number one draft pick. Yes, I was a year old, and I was playing football.

Actually, I was the football.

“Don’t fumble her! Don’t fumble her!” Mom laughed. “And whatever you do, don’t spike her!”

True story.