Ready to Roll

Last night, i watched my 4 year old grandson on stage. It was grandparents' night at his preschool. What a delight to see all the children singing, playing instruments, and dancing (actually more akin to hopping and little girls swinging their dresses). Strong feelings washed over me: waves of delight, joy, and love. I wanted to hug each child and tell them how special they are.

The second part of the evening, we were invited to visit our grandchildren's classroom. Art projects were waiting to be viewed and sweets to be eaten. As I rolled into the refreshment area, I noticed one parent with three little children in tow. The eldest was probably 5 years old, the youngest was in his arms, and the middle child was sobbing. The dad looked frazzled: tired and worried, but not angry. He found a couch, put all three in a row, and dashed to the nearest display, grabbed some treats and handed them to his children.

Most of us can remember such events as we were growing up. Our parents sitting in an auditorium or visiting our classrooms. How different it felt to me when I was the child. It was a time of trepidation when it was my turn to be noticed. My mother had six children that spanned 13 years. With six children in tow, my mom's experience was akin to the dad with the three children. The reaction would have been different: my mom would have been angry. I learned to disappear.

Today, as I roll through the crowds I can no longer disappear. Children stare: I smile back. They are trying to process what they see. I am an anomoly. Adults carry their own experiences and apply them to me. It takes energy to deal with them. Even trying to just navigate from one side of the room to the other can be exhausting. Handicapped children are the best. They just come up and interact with me and my scooter. If they can ambulate, they manage to sit on my lap and are eager to ride around.

So, how does all this tie together? What doors are closed or should be? Which should be opened or are open? Everyday, we make choices. Everyday, I can choose to be like the adult: letting previous experiences define me. Or, I can choose to be like a child, especially the handicapped ones: open to the world and ready to roll.