|
I am the child who cannot talk. You
sometimes pity me: I see it in your eyes. You wonder how much I am aware of
- I see that as well. I am aware of much - whether you are happy or sad or
fearful, patient or impatient, full of love and desire, or if you are just
doing your duty by me. I marvel at your frustration, knowing mine to be far
greater, for I cannot express my needs or myself as you do. You cannot
conceive my isolation: so complete it is at times. I do not gift you with
clever conversation, cute remarks to be laughed over and repeated. I do
not give you answers to your everyday questions, responses over my well
being, sharing my needs, or comments about the world about me. I do not
give you rewards as defined by the world, great strides in development that
you can credit yourself. I do not give you understanding, as you know it.
What I give you is so much more valuable - I give you instead
opportunities. Opportunities to discover the depth of your character, not
mine; the depth of your love, your commitment, your patience, your
abilities; the opportunity to explore your spirit more deeply than you
imagined possible. I drive you further than you would ever go on your own,
working harder, seeking answers to your many questions with no answers.
I am the child who cannot talk. I am the child who cannot walk. The
world seems to pass my by. You see the longing in my eyes to get out of
this chair, to run and play like other children. There is much you take
for granted. I want the toys on the shelf, I need to go to the bathroom,
and oh I even dropped my fork again. I am dependent on you in these ways.
My gift to you is to make you more aware of your great fortune, your
healthy back and legs, your ability to do for yourself. Sometimes people
appear not to notice me; I always notice them. I feel not so much envy as
desire, desire to stand straight upright, to put one foot in front of the
other, to be independent. I give you awareness. I am the child who
cannot walk. I am the child who is mentally impaired. I don't learn
easily, if you judge me by the world's measuring stick, what I do know is
infinite joy in simple things. I am not burdened as you are with the
strifes and conflicts of a more complicated life. My gift to you is to
grant you the freedom to enjoy things as a child, to teach you how much
your arms around me mean, to give you love. I give you the gift of
simplicity. I am the child who is mentally impaired. I am the disabled
child. I am your teacher. If you will allow me, I will teach you what
is really important in life. I will give you and teach you unconditional
love. I gift you with my innocent trust, my dependency upon you. I
teach you about how precious this life is and about not taking things for
granted. I teach you about forgetting your own needs and desires and
dreams. I teach you giving. Most of all I teach you hope and faith. I
am the disabled child.
|