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| They looked at me with compassion I hadn't a clue why Then they told me my son was challenged and I began to cry. Your son may be Autistic or have some related disease. I've never heard of it, I said Explain it to me please? It occurs in every five hundred births, four times more often in boys. Families of all racial and ethnic backgrounds Regardless of stature or poise. It's a lifelong neurological impairment That effects the ability to speak Play or socially interact. I felt my knees grow weak. My husband took me in his arms We held each other tight, My five year old beside me asking, Mommy, is Stevie alright? We wouldn't have known there was a problem If not for his speech delay We thought he was just a little shy, and preferred solitary play. When she said, they don't know what causes it, I just wanted to die. My God this isn't happening, They can't even tell us why? God is not sleeping, I said to myself over and over again holding fast to my faith in God to help me endure the pain. Clearly there needs to be research It's imperative we find a way Of getting programs funded, If we're ever to gain some headway Our children are so precious They look to us for care Let's show them how much we love them and make everyone aware. Before I Go To Sleep By Sally C. Dear Mommy, don't you cry now, and Daddy don't you weep, I want to whisper in your ear before I go to sleep. I know that when I came here, I seemed perfect in every way and you were so proud, Daddy, when you held me on that day. And, Mommy, when you kissed me and wrapped me up so tight, I felt as if I belonged here, and everything was right. When things got really scary and I began to slip away, I saw your face, dear Mommy, as you knelt by me to pray. And, Daddy, I always notice when you wipe away a tear, or watch the other little boys as they run and laugh and cheer. I may not be able to tell you how much I love you so, or even show you how I feel or what I really know. But when you hold me, Mommy, at night when all is still, I hear your dear heart beating and I know that all is well. And, Daddy, when you take me to the park to run and play, I know that you still love me though the words I cannot say. So, Daddy, don't you cry now, and Mommy, don't you weep, I want to tell you something before I go to sleep. I may be sort of different, and you may not understand. I know that I am not the child that you and Daddy planned. But I love you both so very much and I know that you love me too. And one day when this life is done you will feel my love for you. I know the future is unknown and you will always have to be, the one's that love and listen and take good care of me. The road we walk is rough sometimes and you cry a lot of tears, but one day we will turn and laugh as we look back o're the years. So, Mommy, don't you cry now, and Daddy, don't you weep......I want to say, I love you before I go to sleep. God Sent to Me an Angel by Paul Dammann God sent to me an angel, it had a broken wing. I bent my head and wondered "How could God do such a thing?" When I asked the Father why He sent this child to me, the answer was forthcoming, He said "Listen and you'll see." "My children are all precious, and none is like the rest. Each one to me is special, and the least is as the best. I send each one from Heaven and I place it in the care of those who know my mercy, those with love to spare. Sometimes I take them back again. Sometimes I let them stay. No matter what may happen I am never far away. So if you find an angel and you don't know what to do, remember, I am with you, love is all I ask of you." PATRON SAINT Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit. This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger: "Armstrong, Beth, son, patron saint, Matthew. Forrest, Marjorie, daughter, patron saint, Cecilia. Rudledge, Carrie, twins, patron saint-give her Gerard. He's used to profanity." Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a handicapped child." The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She' so happy." "Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a handicapped child a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel." "But has she patience?" asks the angel. "I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has his own world. She has to make it live in her world and that's not going to be easy. "But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you." God smiles, "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness." The angel gasps, Selfishness? Is that a virtue?" God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word.' She will never consider a 'step' ordinary. When her child says `Mommy' for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations." "I will permit her to see clearly the things I see-ignorance, cruelty, prejudice-and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life, because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side." "And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid-air. God smiles, "A mirror will suffice." I Never Told My Son He Couldn't Dance By Kathie Harrington I never told my son he couldn't dance. I never thought he didn't have a chance. I never told my son he might not read. I only sought to plant the seed. I never showed my son a star That, I felt, was way too far. I never taught my son to fly, But I gave him wings on which to try. |
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