Throughout the years, I have had the opportunity to have among my friends and students several who face mental challenges. Thinking about them still brings a smile to my face. As I share some of their stories, know I have changed their names, to give them the dignity they deserve.
One year, I met weekly with a group of children needing extra instruction in their religious knowledge. I might have been worn out from the day’s activities as I entered their classroom, but it never failed that I would walk out feeling happy and refreshed. A friend asked if she could join me one day, after seeing how this group always left me in the best of spirits. Before beginning the class, the friend joined us for cookies and chatter. As she nibbled on one of her cookies, the young man sitting next to her leaned over to take one of her cookies off her plate, popping it into his mouth. He was very polite about this; as he reached over to take the sweet, he said, “Excuse me!” Who could ward off someone’s hand when such politeness is used!
Through a number of years, I had the joy of knowing Sam. Sam made me laugh, though he did not mean to be funny. He was so full of life. Nothing could get in his way. As we munched sandwiches one day at lunch, I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He knew exactly what he would be doing. First, he said, he was going to be an FBI agent. When he no longer wanted to be an FBI agent, he planned to become a circus clown. I told him his career plans were perfect. Why not finish life by being silly, bringing constant laughter to others!
Tim was another source of my sunshine.. He and I would have fun in mock wheelchair races. Of course, he always won. I thought my muscles were good, but his made mine look like peanuts. We would have these races after the church services. People learned quickly to laugh and get out of our way.
During one of the church services, he placed his wheelchair next to mine in the aisle. It was hard to focus, as I could feel his love and strong spirit radiating outward. I also noticed he had a bad cold. His relative would tend to him, using her package of tissues. Now, as much as I loved Tim, I really didn’t want to reach out and hold his hand that day, because if the tissue hadn’t been quite ready for him, he would use his hand. I came up with the solution of reaching over to take hold of his wrist, to give it a caring squeeze. Doing so, he looked at me with his tender eyes, raised his wrist and gave my hand a good kiss. All I could do was smile at his gentleness. I was wrapped up in thinking about germs, while all he thought about was sharing his love and kindness.
One parent told me how he and his wife realized the extra chromosome the mentally challenge carry is one of sheer happiness. How blessed all of us are, who get the chance to experience their joy. God knew what he was doing, having this elite group bring us a constant stream of innocence, love and bliss in an otherwise hectic world.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
THE ONE WORD RESPONSE
THE ONE WORD RESPONSE
Those of us working with youth know about the one word response. If asked about the school day, the response will be “Fine.” Inquiring if there is homework assigned, we may get a “Yes.” To learn how the test went in a certain class period, an ‘Alright.” will be mumbled. After returning from being with friends and asked what they did, the likely answer will be, “Stuff.” Pressed for more information, we are likely to hear, “I can’t remember.”
When one of our children took a school trip out of state, the chaperone called to say he would make sure our child would call home each day. I could already hear the conversation, or lack thereof, from the mandatory phone call.
“How was the flight?”
“Good.”
“How is the food?”
“Awful.”
“Are you tired?”
“Sorta.”
“Do you have a good roommate?”
“No.”
“What will you be doing today?
“Not sure.”
I am sure you have held similar conversations. I told the chaperone to request that the adolescents talk beyond mono-syllabic replies on their calls home. However, I do not know if this is possible. It is one way how the teens like to push our buttons and give us a few more gray hairs, joining the ever-increasing strands that began to appear as their hormones kicked in.
Recently, I ran into a parent at the post office. I told her it was a delight to have her son over for the cast party at our house. She looked puzzled, not knowing what I was talking about. Though it was a divorce situation and the dad had him that weekend, there were the questions of what he had done over the past couple of days when he returned to her home. He did say, “ Went to somebody’s house.” Now, he knows us well, but our names were not provided. I added that he spent the night, sleeping with the rest of the crew on the floor, all news to her. I said he introduced me to his close friend. The mom asked, “Who is that?” We laughed, saying how we must learn about our own child from someone else.
What is amazing is that the adult never gives up trying to get information, nor does the child ever stop giving us the shortest answers possible. This is what life is about. Keep on questioning. Keep being patient at the answers given. It keeps the spirit alive!
Those of us working with youth know about the one word response. If asked about the school day, the response will be “Fine.” Inquiring if there is homework assigned, we may get a “Yes.” To learn how the test went in a certain class period, an ‘Alright.” will be mumbled. After returning from being with friends and asked what they did, the likely answer will be, “Stuff.” Pressed for more information, we are likely to hear, “I can’t remember.”
When one of our children took a school trip out of state, the chaperone called to say he would make sure our child would call home each day. I could already hear the conversation, or lack thereof, from the mandatory phone call.
“How was the flight?”
“Good.”
“How is the food?”
“Awful.”
“Are you tired?”
“Sorta.”
“Do you have a good roommate?”
“No.”
“What will you be doing today?
“Not sure.”
I am sure you have held similar conversations. I told the chaperone to request that the adolescents talk beyond mono-syllabic replies on their calls home. However, I do not know if this is possible. It is one way how the teens like to push our buttons and give us a few more gray hairs, joining the ever-increasing strands that began to appear as their hormones kicked in.
Recently, I ran into a parent at the post office. I told her it was a delight to have her son over for the cast party at our house. She looked puzzled, not knowing what I was talking about. Though it was a divorce situation and the dad had him that weekend, there were the questions of what he had done over the past couple of days when he returned to her home. He did say, “ Went to somebody’s house.” Now, he knows us well, but our names were not provided. I added that he spent the night, sleeping with the rest of the crew on the floor, all news to her. I said he introduced me to his close friend. The mom asked, “Who is that?” We laughed, saying how we must learn about our own child from someone else.
What is amazing is that the adult never gives up trying to get information, nor does the child ever stop giving us the shortest answers possible. This is what life is about. Keep on questioning. Keep being patient at the answers given. It keeps the spirit alive!
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