Inspirations

disABILITY PRAYER

Tina Yows, July 1997

I wrote this one night in response to an e-mail I received from a woman who was having a hard time with people and their response to Kids with disabilities....I hope you like it....

disABILITY PRAYER

Let us pray for the vision impaired...who can only see differences in people, not who that person is inside...

Let us pray for the speech impaired...who can only speak with harsh and hurtful words, instead of kindness and understanding....

Let us pray for the emotionally disturbed...who can not seem to care for anyone that is any different from themselves, instead of at least trying to love everyone, "different" or not....

Let us pray for the hearing impaired...who can only hear the unspoken words, instead of listening for what someone is trying to tell them...

Please God...help these truly DISabled people so that this world can become a better place for ALL of your children....... 

AMEN!

God Sent to Me an Angel

By Paul Dammon 11/96

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."

Written by Paul Dammann, [email protected]
Angels on the Net, http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Trail/1702 

I am ......for mothers.

I am the little engine that did. When on my journey in life, my tracks led me to a mountain - a diagnosis of Autism - I looked at it with defeat - thinking there was no way I could climb over it. I then pondered the obstacle before me, and I then said to myself over and over, "I think I can, I think I can...," then I slowly started climbing the mountain saying to myself over and over, "I know I can, I know I can,...." and then I made it over that ominous diagnosis of Autism and continued my journey. I am the little engine that did.

I am more devoted than Noah's wife. I am cooped up in this "houseboat" for 365 days and 365 nights a year, constantly taking care of and cleaning up after my "herd of animals." And when the storms of isolation and monotony become most unbearable, I do not jump ship. Instead I wait for the rainbow that is sure to come.

I am Xena. Real life warrior goddess of Autism. With my steel plated armor I can fight anyone who gets in the way of progress for my child. I can fight the stares and ignorance of typpies - those without autism in their lives - and educate them as to why my child is the way he is, and why he does the things he does. I can fight the schools to have them properly educate my child. And I can fight denied insurance claims to get coverage for my child. Yes, I am Xena - and I am armed for battle...

I am Betsy Ross. I am part of History by my contribution to the Autism Awareness Quilt -- many pieces of fabric representing many states, stitched together, that will collectively symbolize Freedom. Freedom from the lack of information about Autism, Freedom from not knowing what causes Autism, and Freedom from the lack of funding and research to treat, overcome, and live with - Autism. Like Betsy's piece of fabric, my piece of fabric will someday sit in a museum, for others to see my 12.5 x 12.5 inch memorial of a battle well fought. Whether my child is "cured" in my lifetime does not matter, in the end what will matter to me and to my child, is that I never surrendered. 

I am the Bionic Woman. I have X-Ray vision - I can see through the mask of autism on my child's face, and see the beauty in his soul and the intelligence in his eyes --- when others can't. I have super-hearing - I can look at my child when he smiles at me, and hear his voice say, "I Love You Mommy," --- even though he can't talk. Yes, I am thankful to be Bionic.

I am Mary. A not so well known mother of an Autistic child who was brought here to touch the souls of those around him, in a way that will forever change them. And it started with me. By teaching me things I would never have known, by bringing me friendships I never would have had, and by opening my eyes as to what really matters in life. Things like keeping the Faith, never losing Hope, and knowing a Love that that words cannot express. Yes, I too am blessed by a special child, just like Mary. 

I am Superwoman. I am able to leap over tall loads of laundry in a single bound, and run faster than a speeding bullet, to chase my child as he dashes out the front door and heads for the busy street. Oh yes, without a doubt, I am Superwoman.

I am Moses. I am doing my part in leading other parents and society to more awareness, knowledge, and resources, and most of all - Faith. Like Moses did, I too, will sometimes meet with resistance from those who don't believe. And like Moses, God will give me the small Miracles here and there, needed to accomplish my mission.

I am Stretch Armstrong - a mom that can be stretched beyond belief - and still somehow return to normal. I can stretch limited funds to cover every treatment and therapy that insurance won't. I can stretch my patience as I explain my child's biomedical issues with yet another uneducated doctor. I can stretch what time I have, and share it with my husband, my children, my friends, and still have some leftover to help others. Yes, my name is Stretch. And I have the stretch-marks to prove it!

I am Rosa Parks. I refuse to move or waver in what I believe is right for my child --simply because my view is the minority, not the majority. I refuse to believe "What can one mother do?" But instead, I will write, call, and rally to the government, and do whatever it takes to bring equality for my child. 

I am Hercules. The Greek god known for strength and courage. The heavy loads I must carry would make others crumble to the ground. The weight of Sorrow, Fear at uncertainty of the future, Injustice at having no answers, and from Tears of despair, would alone possibly be too much, --- even for Hercules. But then the Joy, Laughter, Smiles, and Tears of pride, - at my child's accomplishments, - balance the load to make it easy to bear. 

I am touched by an Angel. An Angel who is often described as living in a world of his own. And it's true. He lives in a world of innocence and purity. A world without hatred or deceit. A world where everyone is beautiful and where no-one is ugly. A world where there is always enough time. A world where he goes to bed with no worries of tomorrow and wakes up with no regrets of the past. Yes, I most certainly am touched by an Angel, and I sometimes think that his world is better.. 

I am a mom of a special needs child, all the above, and so much more. Some days I will want to be none of the above - and just be a typical mom with a typical child, doing typical things. On those days I will know it's o.k. to be angry, and to cry, and to lean on my friends for support.  Because after all, ---the most important thing I am, ... is human. 

********

And on this special day, and every other day I need to, I will read this as a reminder, of just who it is, ~ I am..

c. May 2000 By Michelle Guppy, [email protected], - for those "Special" mom's oon Mother's Day - who like me - will not be receiving little handmade cards or gifts from their child - but who see instead, the real gift....

I am.........the teacher.

I am the teacher your child will meet on the first day of school. I know what you will be thinking on that first day. -As you reluctantly put your child on that bus, you will be nervous and apprehensive wondering what it will be like for your child at school. Will he be lost in the shuffle? Will the teacher be nice? - Will she like him? Will the other kids make fun of him? Will she do a good job? ---But don't worry, I am his teacher, and I am ready to begin...

When your child gets off the bus at school, unsure what will happen next, I will be there. I will have a smile on my face so that even if your child doesn't realize where he is, and why he is here, ---he will know it is a friendly place..  A happy place. He will see the inviting decorations and feel reassured that he is not in a mean place.

I will take your child's hand and guide him to where he needs to go, to the seat I have specially marked with his name. I will spend a few minutes helping him to transition to his new environment, and perhaps wipe away a tear.

When we all get settled down to start our day, I will look around at my classroom and all the faces, and be reminded that every child is a different color - each one very unique. I will view my students as a new box of crayons just opened. Each one so bright and shiny. Each one so eager to be picked.

When it's time to do our lesson and I get discouraged that your child doesn't want to participate or do what he must - I will not give up. I will have patieence as we do each simple task over and over, -- and I'll remember that I get coffee breaks, I go home at the end of the day, I get paid vacations - you don't.

When it's time for art, I will put my hand over your child's hand, dipping his fingers in the paint, and showing him what happens when you rub the paint along a plain piece of paper. Oh, I realize your child might care less and might resist at the feeling of the paint on his fingers - but we will do it and I will give him encouragement to keep on. We will use our imagination in deciding what it might be he has painted. So when you get a crumpled piece of paper with perhaps only a few blobs of color on it, know that I saw the masterpiece that your child is.

When we get out our scissors and glue to do a project, I will remember that thinking you aren't as good as someone else, and being excluded, are feelings that can cut into a child's self-esteem. With that in mind, I will make every effort to avoid sticky situations by ensuring that your child is not discriminated against, or made fun of by other children. So when your child comes home in the afternoon with a less than perfect project, know that he did it on his own with the whole class urging him on.

When the therapists come in to work with your child, they will view him as a piece of clay with the potential to be something great. Together, despite tearful plea's and protests, we will take the precious child you have entrusted us with, and do our best at molding and shaping him and smoothing his edges, so that he may stand tall as possible. So at times when you think our goals are too simple, and our progress too slow, know that it takes time to build the magnificent sculpture we are envisioning in your child.

In music class we will have fun while dancing and singing to the silly songs. Don't get discouraged when you get the sheet of paper with the words typed out of the song for the week that your child must learn - and think that he can't participate. For even if your child can't read or talk or understand the words - I will listen to the sounds and shrieks he makes as he sways back and forth or spins in a circle, --and I will hear the music in his soul and see the dancing in his eyes. Just like you do. 

In P.E. class we will not let the obstacles your child faces defeat him. We will make sure your child is challenged, but not discouraged. We will not make any tunnel too long that he can't see the light at the end. We will not make any swing go too fast that he is scared to try it again, or put any goal out of reach. There will be no last place. We will strive to impart to your child that in this race, everyone who crosses the finish line is a winner. We will be cheering for your child all the way, applauding his accomplishments. We will be the safety net should your child stumble and fall along the way.

So when your child comes home from school, and you hurriedly dig through his backpack for a note about what we did all day --and see that I forgot to write one, just know that we covered all the subjects and at the end of the day we were both very tired and dirty. 

c. August 2000 By Michelle Guppy, [email protected].  In tribute to Brandon's teachers, paraprofessionals, aides, and therapists -past and present- who took, and still take, their jobs seriously.

I Am The Child

I am the child who cannot talk. You often 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 

myself or my needs 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's standards.. 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 me 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, oh I've dropped my fork again. I am dependant

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 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 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.

Author Unknown 

The Ten Commandments for Parents of Handicapped Children

1. Take one day at a time, and take that day positively. You don't have
control over the future, but you do have control over today.

2. Never underestimate your child's potential. Allow him, encourage him,
expect him to develop to the best of his abilities.

3. Find and allow positive mentors: parents and professionals who can share
with you their experience, advice, and support.

4. Provide and be involved with the most appropriate educational and
learning environments for your child from infancy on.

5. Keep in mind the feelings and needs of your spouse and your other
children. Remind them that this child does not get more of your love just
because he gets more of your time.

6. Answer only to your conscience: then you'll be able to answer to your
child. You need not justify your actions to your friends or the public.

7. Be honest with your feelings. You can't be a super-parent 24 hours a day.
Allow yourself jealousy, anger, pity, frustration, and depression in small
amounts whenever necessary.

8. Be kind to yourself. Don't focus continually on what needs to be done.
Remember to look at what you have accomplished.

9. Stop and smell the roses. Take advantage of the fact that you have gained
a special appreciation for the little miracles in life that others take for
granted.

10. Keep and use a sense of humor. Cracking up with laughter can keep you
from cracking up from stress.

Author Unknown

To Whom It May Concern:

By William W. Joslin, July 1997

Here is a poem I wrote for my son a couple weeks ago. I hope you like it.

To Whom it May Concern:

I'm just a little boy,

I am only 8,

But, so much has happened,

My life hasn't been so great,

I have feelings,

Even though I can't talk,

I need someone to love me,

Even if I can't walk,

I need someone to hold me,

Instead of leaving me in my chair,

Please won't someone,

Please show me that you care,

I wake up every morning,

Wondering if the pain will ever go away,

Maybe someday I will grow up,

And this will all be part of yesterday,

My body may not be perfect,

But, there's nothing wrong with my heart,

Why was my happiness over,

Before it had a chance to start?

I have so much love to offer,

Don't you understand?

Instead of leaving me in my crib,

Won't you just hold my hand?

I only want to be a real boy,

To be everything that I can be,

I have unlimited potential,

Even if I cannot see,

I go to sleep each night,

Wondering if anyone really even cares,

And then when I need you,

You are never there,

Some people think I'm bad,

But, that is not true,

All I ever wanted,

Was some love from you,

I'm not asking for a lot,

Just a little love,

And since you haven't given it,

I prayed to God above,

God I need a favor,

Please fill my life with joy,

Please take away my pain,

Because God, I'm just a little boy.

Love,

Preston.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear God,

I just wanted to say thank-you,

For whatever it is that you did,

I feel like a "real" boy,

Like any other kid.

Someone came into my life,

Everyone calls him dad,

The life that I have now,

Is much better than the one that I had,

Everyday he says he loves me,

And I believe that this is true,

And Dear God, I owe it,

I owe it all to you,

He gives me hugs when I need it,

He never sticks me in my chair,

And whenever I need someone,

I know my daddy will be there,

Even though I can't talk,

He knows what I want to say,

Every morning I wake up,

Looking forward to each day,

My daddy got me something,

He said would help me walk,

And now he said he's trying,

To get something to help me talk,

My daddy says I'm smart enough,

And I believe that this is true,

And Dear God I owe it,

I owe it all to you.

Love,

Preston