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Skrivet av	Love
In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be mainstreamed into conventional schools. At a Chush fundraising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son, Shay? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God"s perfection? The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father"s anguish and stilled by the piercing query. "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child." He then told the following story about his son Shay: One afternoon, Shay and his father 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 his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shay"s father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging. Shay"s father approached one of the boys in 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. Shay"s father was ecstatic as Shay smiled broadly. Shay was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay"s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay"s team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base. Shay was scheduled to be up. 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 it was all but impossible because Shay didn"t even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay should at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. One of Shay"s teammates came up to Shay and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay and his teammate swung at the ball and together they 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 run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shay, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher"s intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman"s head. Everyone yelled, "Run to second! Run to second!" Shay ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home. As Shay reached second base, the opposing short stop 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 ran behind him screaming, "Shay run home!" Shay ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoul
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Tack! /imt
Skrivet av Malin
Berättelser som denna gör att vi orkar vidare några dagar till, ett stort tack!

Ord ger styrka
Skrivet av Linda
Tack for vackra ord, dessa hjalper mig nar jag har "laga" dagar. Jag har en dikt jag tycker om. Den heter "Heaven"s very Special Child": A meeting was held quite far from earth "It"s time again for another birth" Said the Angels to the Lord above This special child will need much love His progress may seem very slow Accomplishments he may not show And he"ll require some extra care From all the folks he meets down there He may not run or laugh or play His thoughts may seem so far away So lets be careful where he"s sent We want his life to be content Please, Lord find people who Will do a special job for you They will not realize right away The leading role their about to play But with this child sent from above Comes stronger faith and richer love And soon they"ll know the privilege given In caring for this child from heaven Their precious child so meek and mild Is heavens very special child -Author unknown-


Ja, men...
Skrivet av Malin
Min mammma gav mig den dikten när min dotter nyss fått sin diagnos, och jag blev så arg!! Skulle det vara meningen att min goa lilla unge var sjuk? Skulle jag vara utvald? Skulle all denna sorg vara en gåva från himmlen?? Det var då det, idag så älskar jag den dikten! och särskilt raden: They will not realize right away The leading role their about to play But with this child sent from above Comes stronger faith and richer love det är så sant! Tack Linda, du har räddat min dag!! Nu ska jag gå och byta en lortig blöja (med glädja och tacksamhet för vad jag fått!) Malin

Forstar precis..
Skrivet av Linda och Tom
Jag tror jag forstar vad du menar. Dikten hangde pa en av vaggarna pa den hjartavdelning Tommy alltid laggs in pa. Jag sag den inte forran han var ca sju manader gammal. Jag var inte redo att lasa den innan dess. Nar jag ville dela med mig av dikten sa har pa internet sa tankte jag just sa att kanske manga inte orkar lasa den. Till dem vill jag saga forlat men jag vet oxa att man kommer dit sa smaningom och da vet de var den finns. Jag tror inte det ar negativt att bli arg och ledsen over sitt barn, att kanna orattviskanslor, bitterhet etc, det hor till. Kramar fran oss

Att känna ilskan...
Skrivet av Malin
...är ju ett normalt sätt att reagera på dessa konstiga omständigheter vi har hamnat i. Jag tyckte att det var svårt att tillåta mig själv att få vara arg, det tog många år innan jag vågade släppa ut ilskan. Får man vara nyfiken och undra var ni är? (med tanke på avsaknaden av åäö) Kram, Malin


Malin,
Skrivet av Linda och Tommy
hejsan. Jag bor i Sydney med min australiensiska man och Tommy saklart. Vi har bott har i fyra ar, Tommy som ar 18 man foddes har. Jag haller med, iborjan fick jag sa daligt smvete for de kanslor jag kunde kanna. Men det ar val som med allt annat i livet, det ar en process och det finns inga genvagar. Nu nar jag har borjat acceptera att Tommy ar annorlunda fran de flesta barn och att lakarna inte kommer att kunna till fullo "fixa" honom sa ser jag allt det positiva och vackra som han har fort in i vara liv. Visst vardagen blir sallan trakigt gra utan vaxlar mellan starka harliga farger och svart, men ar inte livet just sa om man lever det till fullo? Synd bara att man inte alltid har energi for uppforsbackarna... Ibland undrar man hur man skall orka och sen genom ett under gar det... Var bor ni i Sverige? Jag ar ursprungligen fran Goteborg. Linda och Tom

Varning: Ett mycket långt inlägg.
Skrivet av MalinS
Hej Linda och alla andra nya snackare, Roligt att se att det är lite "liv" på denna sidan. jag heter Malin (oxå) och har en son på 7 år med många funktionshinder och massa livsglädje. Visst är "Heavens special child" helt underbar. Jag gråter fortfarande när jag läser den. Skulle läsa den högt på en föreläsning en gång och började storböla, fånigt va´! En annan upplevelse är berättelsen om Holland, skriven av en mamma som har en son med Downs syndrom, lyder som följer: "When you are going to have a baby, it"s like planning a fabulous vacation trip to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The Gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It"s all very exciting. "After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says -- "Welcome to Holland." "HOLLAND!?" you say. Then " What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy. All my life I have dreamed of going to Italy." But there has been a change in the flight plan, they"ve landed in Holland, and there you must stay. "The important thing is that they haven"t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine and disease. It"s just a different place. "So you must go out and buy new guide books and you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. "It"s just a different place. It"s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you have been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts. "But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they"re all bragging what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, "Yes, that"s where I was supposed to go. That"s what I had planned." "And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss. "But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn"t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland."

Mer engelsk text...
Skrivet av Linda och Tom
Tack Malin S, den ar skrammande sann.Nar vi nu ar i farten av skrivande sa kommer har annu en text som jag tycker ar inspirerande : Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, and 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 don"t 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 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 a patron saint?" asks the angel, pen poised in midair. God smiles. "A mirror will suffice." -Unknown


Från en utvald
Skrivet av MalinS
Hej Linda och Tom, Som ni skrev, en mycket inspirerande text! Jag försöker också tänka i termer av "tack gode gud för att min son fick bli just min" istället för "varför just jag?" Vilka är ni och vem är ni utvalda föräldrar till? Hälsningar MalinS

Här är en liknande text.
Skrivet av Anna och Lovisa 010103
The Special Mother 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 special needs children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of special needs children are chosen? Somehow, I envision God hovering over the 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. Forest, Marjorie. Daughter. Patron Saint, Cecilia. Rutledge, 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 special needs child." The angel is curious. "Why this one, Lord? She"s so happy." "Exactly," smiles God, "Could I give a special needs child to a mother who doesn"t know laughter? That would be cruel." "But does she have patience?" asks the angel. "I don"t want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she"ll handle it okay. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence that are 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, what if she doesn"t believe in you?" asks the angel. God smiles, "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has 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 who will be a little 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 "Mama" for the first time, she will be witness to 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, my Lord?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid-air. God smiles. "A mirror will suffice." By Erma Bombeck

Oopps, jag såg inte att den redan fanns här!
Skrivet av Anna och Lovisa 010103
IMT

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Tack! /imt

Ord ger styrka

Ja, men...

Forstar precis..

Att känna ilskan...

Malin,

Varning: Ett mycket långt inlägg.

Mer engelsk text...

Från en utvald

Här är en liknande text.

Oopps, jag såg inte att den redan fanns här!

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