THINK OF ME AS A PERSON You look at me with pity, concern or indifference, for I am a retarded child. But you only see the outside me. If I could express myself, I would tell you what I am inside. I am very much like you. I feel pain and hunger. I cannot ask politely for a glass of water, but I know the parched dry feeling of thirst. I itch when mosquitoes bite me and run when I see a bee. I feel cozy drinking cocoa in the kitchen when a snowstorm blusters outside. I had a heaviness inside when I left my mother to board the minibus for school. My eyes darted back and forth, seeking escape, but knowing there was none. When my sister takes me to the playground and children call me names, she cries and takes me home. Then I feel warm and dizzy, and it is hard for me to breathe. Mother’s eyes are wet; she holds me and tells me a story, and I forget the children’s jeers. When I dress myself and Mother pats my head, saying “Good job, Jim!” I feel….big. As big as Greg, who goes to second grade. I am a child – in age now, and in ability always. I find the touch of soft toys and snuggly dogs comforting. I love the toys of childhood – a kite, a balloon, a wagon to pull. I like to let go at the top of a slide and after dizzy seconds find myself at the bottom. I like sleds on soft snow, the wetness of rain on my forehead. Though it is comfortable to be babied, I am less dependent when people treat me as a big boy. I don’t want their sympathy. I want their respect for what I can do. I am slow, and many things you take for granted are hard for me. I can hardly understand what “tomorrow” means. It took me months to learn to pedal the tall blue tricycle, but I was so proud when at last both feet pedaled in the same direction and the wheels went forward. How happy I was when I turned on the right faucet to get a drink of water. I didn’t want to ever turn it off. If I can learn at my own pace and still be accepted, I can fit into a world where slowness is suspect. Think of me first as a person, who hurts and loves and feels joy. And know I am a child to encourage and direct. Smile, and say hello – even that is enough.

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the school's students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all that attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "Everything God does is done with perfection. Yet, my son Shay cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is God's plan reflected in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like Shay into the world, an opportunity to realize the Divine Plan presents itself and it comes in the way people treat that child." Then, he told the following story: Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they will let me play?" Shay's father knew that the boys would not want him on their team But the father understood that if his son were allowed to play it would give him much-needed sense of belonging. Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, "We are losing by six runs, and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning." In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. At the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the outfield. Although no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base. Shay was scheduled to be the next at-bat. Would the team actually let Shay bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman. Everyone started yelling, "Shay, run to first, run to first." Never in his life had Shay ever made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "run to second, run to second!" By the time Shay was rounding first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman for a tag. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions had been, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Shay ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home. As Shay reached second base, the opposing shortstop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "run to third!" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams were screaming, "Shay Run home!" Shay ran home, stepped on home plate and was cheered as the hero for hitting a "grand slam" and winning the game for his team. "That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a "spark" of the Divine Plan into this world."