Raising
a handicapped child need not be an impossible task.
All it takes is a few miracles.
Not the big miracles, no bolts of lightening or startling revelations.
Just a few little miracles, the kinds that happen every day.
How else can I explain all I have learned, all that I have felt and all I have
received from a small child?
Surely these must be miracles.
Because the things I have found in myself were never there until I needed them.
The strength to accept today and enjoy the pleasures it will bring.
The fortitude never to give up hope in tomorrow.
The wisdom to teach my children that our strengths are found in our hearts and
souls, not our arms and legs.
The courage to give and take love unselfishly, knowing that the more I love, the
more my heart can break.
The imagination to teach my son to run and fly in spite of his weakened
legs.
The humor to find laughter in the midst of absurdity.
The understanding to accept others' feelings and comfort them when I need
comforting myself.
The confidence to know I can do anything I have to.
The ability to accept, without bitterness or blame, what has happened to my
family.
And finally, the love to put it all together.
Thanks God |