As I walk through the doors of the rehabilitation center, and move towards the stairs, the pieces of a familiar routine fall into place. This is my first visit in about 5 months. When we enter the room and see the children, I am reminded of my first visit, when I was in 9th grade. I think about how nervous I was; I was afraid that I wouldn't know what to say or what to do. I still stand around awkwardly until the toys are brought up.
I find a child to play with, and from that moment on, nothing else but games matter. We do some coloring, play with play dough, puzzles and we even play hide and seek. Time flies by and when we leave no one even remembers that the children were disabled, they're all thinking about how much fun they had.
So true, Melisa. Visits to the ARC remind us of the thinness of the shells our souls wear, so thin that we see right through them when we engage in a spirit of childlike intent others whose bodies our rational minds see as crippled.
ReplyDelete