Don't Whine

Today upon a bus I saw a lovely girl with golden hair. I envied
her and wished I were as fair. But suddenly
she rose to leave. I saw her hobble down the isle, she had only one
leg and wore a crutch, but as she passed, a smile…

Oh, God forgive me when I whine,
I have two legs, the world is mine.

I stopped to buy some candy. The lad who sold them had such charm. I
stopped to talk to him, he seemed so glad - if I was late it could do
no harm. As I left he said to me, “I thank-you, you have been so
kind. It’s nice to talk to folks like you, you see,” he said, “I am
blind.”

Oh, God forgive me when I whine,
I have two eyes, the world is mine.

Later while walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes of
blue. He stood and watched the others play, he did not know what to
do. I stopped a moment and said, “Why don’t you join the others,
dear?” He looked ahead without a word and then I knew, he couldn’t
hear.

Oh, God forgive me when I whine,
I have two ears, the world is mine.

With legs to take me where I go,
with eyes to see the sun-set glow,
with ears to hear what I would know.

Oh, God forgive me when I whine,
I am blessed indeed, the world is mine!

Author Unknown

A Poem about Children with disabilities

I AM THE CHILD                                                   (Author Unknown)
 
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 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 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 strife's 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.

The Special Mother By Erma Bombeck

The Special Mother
by Erma Bombeck

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice,
a few by social pressure and a couple by habit.
This year nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of children with disabilities.
 Did you ever wonder how these mothers 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 take notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew."
"Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia."
"Rutledge, 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's so happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a handicapped child a mother who knows no laughter?
That would be cruel."
"But does she have the patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair.
Once the shock and resentment wear off she'll handle it."
"I watched her today.
She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother.
You see, the child I'm going to give her has a world of it's own.
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 will never survive.
Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect.
She doesn't know 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 momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it.
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 the air. God smiles.
"A mirror will suffice."

See ME

This poem appeared when an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a hospital near Dundee, Scotland. It was felt that she had left nothing of value. Then the nurses, going through her possessions, found this poem. Its quality so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on the poem.

A Poem What do you see, nurses, what do you see, what are you thinking when you're looking at me? A crabby old woman, not very wise, uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes. Who dribbles her food and makes no reply when you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try?" Who seems not to notice the things that you do, and forever is losing a stocking or shoe. Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will with bathing and feeding, the long day to fill. Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse; you're not looking at me. I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still, as I use at your bidding, as I eat at your will. I'm a small child of ten with a father and mother, brothers and sisters, who love one another. A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet, dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet. A bride soon at twenty – my heart gives a leap, remembering the vows that I promised to keep. At twenty-five now, I have young of my own who need me to guide and a secure happy home. A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast, bound to each other with ties that should last. At forty my young sons have grown and are gone, but my man's beside me to see I don't mourn. At fifty once more babies play round my knee, again we know children, my loved one and me. Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead; I look at the future, I shudder with dread. For my young are all rearing young of their own, and I think of the years and the love that I've known. I'm now an old woman and nature is cruel; 'tis jest to make old age look like a fool. The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart, there is now a stone where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells, and now and again my battered heart swells. I remember the joys, I remember the pain, and I'm loving and living life over again. I think of the years; all too few. Gone too fast, and accept the stark fact that nothing can last. So open your eyes, nurses, open and see, not a crabby old woman; look closer — see ME!! ~~~o~~~ Remember this poem when you next meet an old person. We will one day be there too.

Welcome To Holland (A poem about raising about raising a child with a disability)

Welcome to Holland

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this…


When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum, the Michelangelo David, the gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.


After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."


"Holland?!" you say. "What do you mean, Holland?" I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy.


But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.


The important thing is that they haven't taken you to some horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.


So you must go out and buy a new guidebook. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.


It's just a different place. It's slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips, Holland even has Rembrandts.


But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."


The pain of that will never, ever, go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.


But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.

Written by Emily Perl Kingsley

What Makes Someone A Hero

A lot of the news I learn about I read on the Internet. For some reason watching the news on television depresses me more than reading it does. Some of the news I read pertains to movie/television stars, athletes, singers, etc. Many of the articles I read call these celebrities "heroes" because of their acting "talents" or because they give or raise money for a specific charity or cause.

This made me think about a quote I once read; "Heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences." I really like this definition and consider it to be an accurate description of what truly makes someone a hero!

It is true that many celebrities have good acting skills or they can give of their time when needed or they can give millions of dollars to a charity but what do they really do that makes them a hero? They may perform in a play or a made-for-tv movie that raises awareness of a particular social problem. They can hold fundraisers relying on the help of their fellow celebrities to raise the money they need to show support for their choice of charity or they can ask their accountants to write them a check. I don't think of a celebrity as hero at all. They are just a person who is in a position to raise awareness or give or raise money for a specific charity or cause if they choose to do so.

I believe a hero is a person who, as the quote above states, does what they have to do when they have to do it, no matter what the consequences are. Instead of choosing to either look for the bad or become bad due to circumstances in their life, instead of feeling sorry for themselves, they have chosen to become better people who see the good in others! For instance police officers, fire fighters, EMTs, doctors, and nurses place their lives in jeopardy every day in order to save the life of another person. Police officers face the possibility of being shot to death, fire fighters could die in a fire while EMTs, doctors and nurses face the possibility of contracting diseases that could ultimately kill them. Yet, in spite of these dangers, they have educated themselves on the risks involved and still choose to remain in their professions.

If I had to choose a person in history who I believe was/is a hero, I would choose Anne Frank. When she was a teenager; her country was going through WWII. Due to her ethnicity she and others were endanger of being killed because of a man's twisted thoughts that anyone who was Jewish wasn't fit to live. Anne, her family and others had to hide in an attic. For two years she, her family and the others had only each other to rely on. Everyday, she lived in fear that she and the rest of her group would be found, sent to a concentration camp and eventually die. While in the attic, Anne kept a diary. She wrote down her thoughts and her feelings. She wrote about her fears of not growing up to become an adult, not  being able to get married or raise a family. In spite of what she was living through she remained positive, optimistic and hopeful about the future. She held on to her belief that "In spite of everything I truly believe that people are good at heart." If I had been the one who was going through all the horrors that Anne, her family and the others faced I don't know if I could have been as strong!

There are people in my life that I consider to be heroes, not because they are perfect but because in the face of adversity they are still  good people! The woman who adopted me who I refer to as my "real mother" is a hero to me. She was born in Germany during the nineteen thirties. She lived during and survived WWII. One of her sisters died at the age of six. She lived in fear that she and her family might die and her home was destroyed by bombs. My mother left her family, friends and everything she knew, in Germany, because she wanted her children to have a better life than what she had. She came to this country by boat in nineteen fifty-two. She did not know the English language, she did not know anyone other than my father, and she only had an eighth grade education. This did not stop her from "doing what she had to do", as she puts it. She learned the English language, which she says was no easy task. She learned how to drive so she did not have to rely on others. She worked, full-time in order to manage a home, and at that time, raise two children, put food on the table and clothes on their back's. She worked as a nurse's aid in a hospital and then worked in an institution where she met me, a child with a developmental disability, when I was three years old. In 1977 she adopted me and fought to place me into a regular school, because she realized I had been misdiagnosed and that I had the capability to learn just like any other child. She has faced whatever life has thrown at her. Through it all, she has maintained a positive outlook on life and has never given up hope that things will work out in the end! That is why I consider her a hero!

One of my best friends went through a lot of physical and sexual abuse as a child while another one of my best friends was abused by a former spouse. Each of these woman could have grown up or become bitter, angry and resentful. They could have become just as abusive toward others as their abusers were to them, but they haven't. They could blame others for the abuse they suffered, but they don't. Each of my best friend's career's involves working with people who have developmental disabilities (This is a population where many types of abuse can and does occur because of the vulnerable circumstances the people of this population have been placed in). My best friends work hard to help people with developmental disabilities live happy, productive and fulfilling lives! Both women have come to terms with what they have gone through and instead of just giving up on people and life, they have persevered!  My best friends are thoughtful, kind, caring, giving, compassionate, strong and wise women! My life would not be the same without either one of them! I would not be the same without either one of them!

I think what I am trying to say is a person doesn't have to be glamorous, a genius, an athlete, a singer, a movie/television star or a millionaire to be a hero. For me, the only thing a person has to do to be defined as a hero is to come through the bad, whatever life has thrown their way, and still be a good, caring and compassionate person who sees and brings out the good in others and the world around them!

"And then a hero comes along, with the strength to carry on,
and you cast your fears aside and you know you can survive.
So when you feel like hope is gone, look inside you and be strong
and you'll finally see the truth, that a hero lies in you"

~  From the song "Hero" sung by Mariah Carey

Happy New Year One And All & A Few Resolutions

Since this is the beginning of a brand new year I thought I would talk about my New Year's resolution(s).

The first resolution is more work related :I am going to try very hard not to be as hard on myself when I make mistakes. Along with this I am also going to try not to always "second guess" myself. Which will not be an easy task for me because I seem to make more mistakes at work, both professionally and personally, than I do at home. When it comes to second guessing myself it is usually because a co-worker or my supervisor does not agree with how I am either saying or doing something. So, I try to please that person instead of remembering you can't please everyone all the time. I have become friends with some of my co-workers and some of these friends I have come to think of as my best friends. So, whenever I make a mistake whether I said or did something I know I shouldn't have or someone is disagree with me either because they are right or because they are taking their bad moods out on me, I feel very bad because I have upset or hurt my friends in some way. I don't know how I will succeed with this resolution but never the less I will try.

My second resolution is this: I am going to try very hard not to let others make me feel inferior to them without my consent. This is an on going battle for me both professionally and personally. I have had former social workers tell me that I would fail at whatever I want to accomplish (i.e. going to college) and at times I believed them. I have had co-workers who have said to a male co-worker they were trying to impress: "I think I am the prettiest woman on our team" Once they saw the look of hurt on my face (because I believed we were becoming friends) then they realized they opened their mouth and inserted their foot. So they tried to "fix it" by saying "I mean you are pretty too, I think all of the woman on our team are." I try to remember that those co-workers were much younger than me and they may be really insecure about themselves so they try to make others feel insecure. It isn't always easy to swallow it and just let it go because, to me, words hurt so much more than a punch or a slap and can leave lasting scars on one's self-esteem! Do I believe that I am pretty - not alt all. I have always known that I was born with plain looks but have always believed that didn't mean I wasn't a good person so I made up for it in this way. I am by no means perfect! I wouldn't want to be because I think my life would be very dull if I were. I know I am not the prettiest, or thinnest, most desirable, sexiest or the smartest woman in my workplace! However, I do try to treat others with respect and dignity and even though sometimes I want to lay into that person for saying some really hurtful things. I don't because then that would make me no better then they are! Besides, I happen to like myself, most of the time, for who I am!

Many years ago a classmate in college gave me this poem and I think after listing my New Year's resolution(s) it is fitting to end my blog entry with it:

You do not need to be loved at the cost of yourself,

The only relationship that is truly central in life,
 Is a relationship with yourself.

It is rewarding to find someone you like,
But it is essential to like yourself.
It is quickening to recognize that someone is a good and decent human being,
But it is indispensable to view yourself that way.

It is a delight to find people worthy of respect, admiration and love.

For you cannot live in someone else.

Of all the people you will know in a lifetime, you are the only one you will never lose or leave.

TO THE QUESTION OF YOUR LIFE, YOU ARE THE ANSWER!

TO THE PROBLEMS OF YOUR LIFE, YOU ARE THE SOLUTION!

~ Author Unknown ~