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Gift of a Handicapped Child
Written by Erma Bombeck......1980
Bestowing a most precious gift
Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice,
a few by social pressures and a couple by habit.
This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children.
Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children 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 make notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son, patron saint, Matthew.
Forrest, Marjorie, daughter, patron saint, Cecilia.
"Rudledge, 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," says God.
"Could I give a handicapped child a mother who does not
know laughter? That would be cruel."
"But has she patience?" asks the angel.
"I do want her to have too much patience or
she will 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 feeling of self and independence
that is so rare and so necessary in a mother.
You see, the child I'm going to give her has his own world.
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'll never survive.
Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect.
She doesn't realize 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 present
at a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset
to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations.
"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,pen poised in midair.
God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."
But soon the little newborn has to a toddler grown;
The nursery's now a bedroom, the baby's crib is gone,
The little girl grows older, and with each passing year,
Then one fine day she's walking with her father at her side,
And now I am a Granny, and Daughter, you're a Mom,
Cherish each passing moment, the laughter and the tears,
Be always there to walk with her when up against the odds,
For mowing the grass, $5
Well, I looked at him standing there expectantly, and a thousand
For the nine months I carried you, growing inside me, No Charge,
Well, when he finished reading, he had great big tears in his eyes.
Son - What's up, Dad?
Dad - There's a scratch down the side of the car. Did you do it?
Son - I don't believe, if I understand the definition of "scratch the car",
Dad - Well, it wasn't there yesterday, and you drove the car last night,
Son - Well, as I've said before, I have no recollection of scratching the car.
Dad - But your sister told me she saw you back the car against the mailbox
Son - Oh, you mean you think you have evidence to prove I scratched it.
Dad - Are you trying to tell me you didn't drive the car into the mailbox?
Son - Well, you see sir, I was trying to drive the car into the street.
Dad - So you are then saying that you did hit the mailbox?
Son - No sir, that's not my statement.
Dad - But the car did hit the mailbox, and the car did get scratched as
Son - Well, yes, I suppose you could look at it that way.
Dad - So you lied to me when you said you did not scratch the car?
Son - No. No, that's not correct. Your question was "Did I scratch the car?".
Dad - With an attitude like that,
Son - Well I could be a lawyer...
Dad - (Darn kids, I shoulda been a monk).
LITTLE SHOES
In the top drawer of her dresser is one pair of little shoes
And a pair of little booties from which her Mom can choose.
Although she cannot walk just yet, out with her mom she goes
For strolls in different shades of pink from her head down to her toes.
In patent-leather party shoes she's walking all alone.
But someone's watching closely as she takes each shaky stride,
And though she may not notice it, her mom is at her side.
The little girl is off to school with brand-new sneakers on.
She skips onto the schoolyard with at step as light as air,
While mom, though smiling bravely, feels at loose ends standing there.
Her first high-heels and cowgirl boots eventually appear.
And then, as if by magic, the little girl is grown,
She wears the latest fashions bought with earnings of her own.
In shoes of fine white satin, for now she is a bride.
I wonder where the time has gone, and wistfully recall
My little girl, in little shoes, so innocent and small.
Your little newborn daughter is the sunshine of your home.
The top drawer of her dresser is filled with little shoes,
And many pairs of booties from which you now can choose.
For days go by so swiftly, and gather soon to years.
The little shoes she will outgrow before you realize,
She'll blossom like a summer's rose, before your very eyes.
Make sure she knows that she can count on mother and on God.
And though she'll spread her wings and fly, as all our daughters do,
One day she'll wear a mothers shoes, and she'll come home to you.
No Charge
My little boy came into the kitchen this evening while I was fixing
supper. And he handed me a piece of paper he'd
been writing on. So, after wiping my hands on my apron, I read it, and
this is what it said:
For making my own bed this week, $1.
For going to the store $.50.
For playing with baby brother while you went shopping, $.25.
For taking out the trash, $1.
For getting a good report card, $5.
And for raking the yard, $2.
memories flashed through my mind. So, I picked up the paper, and
turning it over, this is what I wrote:
For the nights I sat up with you, doctored you prayed for you, No
Charge,
For the time and the tears, and the cost through the years, No Charge.
For the nights filled with dread, and the worries ahead, there's No
Charge.
For advice and the knowledge, and the cost of your college, No Charge.
For the toys, food and clothes, and for wiping your nose, there's No
Charge Son.
When you add it all up, the full cost of my love is No Charge.
And
he looked up at me and he said, "Mama, I sure do love you."
Then he
took the pen and in great big letters he wrote, PAID IN FULL.
When you
add it all
up,
the cost of real love is No Charge.
Somewhere in America
Dad - Son, come in here, we need to talk.
that I can say, truthfully, that I scratched the car.
and no one else has driven it since.
How can you explain the scratch?
While it is true that I did take the car out last night, I did not scratch it.
at the end of the driveway, heard a loud scraping sound,
saw you get out to examine the car, and then drive away.
So again I'll ask you, yes or no, did you scratch the car?
Well, you see, I understood you to mean did "I" scratch the car.
I stand by my earlier statement, that I did not scratch the car.
I mishandled the steering of the car,
and it resulted in direct contact with the mailbox,
though that was clearly not my intent.
I'll refer you back to my original statement that I did not scratch the car.
a result of this contact?
From a strict legal definition, as I understood the meaning of that sentence,
I did not scratch the car... the mailbox did...
I was merely present when the scratching occurred.
So my answer of "No" when you asked "Did I scratch the car"
was legally correct, although I did not volunteer information.
what kind of job can you ever hope to have as an adult....
or maybe even with a little luck....
The President of the United States.
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