During the past eight years, Samantha has gone through a lot of labels. Each has been given, in an attempt, to tell us why she is the way she is. She has been labled premature, developmentally delayed, metally retarded, and as having Cerebral Palsy. If those were not enough, she was recently diagnosed as having a sensory process disorder.

I have, long since, given up on trying to find out why Samantha is the way she is. I have spent the last few years of our lives focusing on who she is. I have found that to be much more revealing, and a whole lot more valuable.

Still, there are times when I find myself watching her, wondering how her life will unfold. I have often wondered how much Samantha really realizes, in regards to her disabilities. I have learned that she spends a minimal amount of time focused on all the why's...she concentrates on the how's...how she will reach the goals she sets for herself.

Everyone who has ever spent any time with Samantha...whether it be a doctor, teacher, therapist, or aquaintance, has always commented on what a happy child Samantha is.

Samantha has her own "moments of reflection". They are few, and far between, but when one comes along, it has the ability to move a person to the point of being powerless to respond.

Tina shared one of these moments with Samantha, about a year ago. It was so powerful that we, still, don't really talk about it...but, each of us, in our quiet times, reflect on it often.

Samantha has a doll that talks. She got it for Christmas. It, of course, takes batteries. Every time you move it, it begins to "babble"...on and on.

One day, about a year ago, the doll needed new batteries. Tina had just replaced the old batteries with new ones, and had handed it back to Sam. Sam was sitting on the couch, beside Tina, and seemed to be deep in thought.

When Samantha is deep in thought, she stares up into the "unknown" while moving her lips, slightly, as though she is, silently, forming words. After some mements of doing this, she, usually, is ready to discuss what she has been thinking about. It usually comes in short, choppy, phrases...each, followed by the command, "Say It!"...prompting you to repeat the thought back to her, thus, letting her know that you understand what she is telling you.

On this particular occasion, Samantha looked at the doll she was holding, turned to Tina, and said, "Pantha can't talk!...Pantha need batteries!"

As Tina sat there, trying to find the words to respond, Samantha continued..."Chelsey (Our Grandaughter, who is several years younger than Samantha) can talk...Pantha can't talk...Pantha...batteries...store...want one...Say It!"

Samantha was suggesting that there must be a battery one could buy that, when properly installed, would correct her speech problems. She was telling Tina that she wanted her to go to the store and buy one. To Sam, she had figured out the solution to her speech problems.

These moments of reflection have made me come to know that there is more that Samantha can teach me about life than I could ever teach her. They have taught me that I have absolutely no right to talk about stress, problems, or tasks that I cannot handle...mine are so small and meaningless in comparison to the issues she deals with...on a daily basis.

It is no wonder that, after years of searching, I tell people I hae found a true hero. It is Samantha!