Let them be little

Let them be little


Autumn Dance

I was just going through some books on the shelf, and came across a book that I don't know if I have ever opened. It's an old book called, Mothering by Heart, Celebrating the Moments that Last Forever by Robin Jones Gunn. I think it is a consignment store book from my dad. I opened immediately to the middle, and saw a picture of a little girl with Down Syndrome. (This book is not about DS) My eyes are misty, and I want to share what I read:

"She stood a short distance from her guardian at the park this afternoon, her distinctive features revealing that although her body blossomed into young adulthood, her mind would always remain a child's. My children ran and jumped and sifted sand through perfect, coordinated fingers. Caught up in fighting over a shovel, they didn't notice when the wind changed. But she did. A wild autumn wind spinning the leaves into amber flurries.

I called to my boisterous son and jostled my daughter. Time to go. Mom still has lots to do today. My rosy-cheeked boy stood still, watching with wide-eyed fascination the gyrating dance of the Down syndrome girl as she scooped up leaves and showered herself with a twirling rain of autumn jubilation.

With each twist and hop she sang deep, earthy grunts-a canticle of praise meant only for the One whose breath causes the leaves to tremble from the trees.

Hurry up. Let's go. Seat belts on? I start the car. In the rearview mirror I study her one more time through misty eyes. And then the tears come. Not tears of pity for her. The tears are for me. For I am too busy to dance in the autumn leaves and far too sophisticated to publicly shout praises to my Creator.

I am whole and intelligent and normal, and so I weep because I will never know the severe mercy that frees such a child and bids her come and dance in the autumn leaves."

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