The following is an anonymous authored story that was sent to me via email from a lady who works with special needs children.
Blue Roses
Why do I always have to be the one that starts to do laundry and there's no detergent? Well, I guess it was time for me to do my store run, which included light bulbs, paper towels, trash bags and Clorox. So off I go.
I scurried around the store, gathered up my goodies, and headed for the checkout counter only to be blocked in the narrow aisle by a young man that appeared to be about sixteen-years-old. I wasn't in a hurry, so I patiently waited for the boy to realize that I was there. This was when he waved his hands excitedly in the air and declared in a loud voice, "Mommy, I'm over here."
It was obvious now, he was mentally challenged, and also startled as he turned and saw me standing so close to him, waiting to squeeze by. His eyes widened and surprise exploded on his face as I said, "Hey Buddy, what's your name?"
"My name is Denny and I'm shopping with my mother," he responded proudly.
"Wow," I said, "that's a cool name; I wish my name was Denny, but my name is Hal."
"Hal, like Halloween?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered. "How old are you Denny?"
"How old am I now, Mommy?" he asked his mother as she slowly came over from the next aisle. "You're fifteen-years-old Denny; now be a good boy and let the man pass by."
I acknowledged her and continued to talk to Denny for several more minutes about summer, bicycles and school. I watched his brown eyes dance with excitement because he was the center of someone's attention. He then abruptly turned and headed toward the toy section.
Denny's mom had a puzzled look on her face and thanked me for taking the time to talk with her son. She told me that most people wouldn't even look at him, much less talk to him. I told her that it was my pleasure and then I said something I have no idea where it came from, other than by the prompting of the Holy Spirit.
I told her that there are plenty of red, yellow and pink roses in God's garden, however, "Blue Roses" are very rare and should be appreciated for their beauty and distinctiveness. You see, Denny is a Blue Rose and if someone doesn't stop and smell that rose with their heart and touch that rose with their kindness, then they've missed a blessing from God.
She was silent for a second, then with a tear in her eye she asked, "Who are you?"
Without thinking I said, "Oh, I'm probably just a dandelion but I sure love living in God's garden."
Please the next time you see a BLUE ROSE don't turn your head and walk off, take the time to smile and say Hello. Because by the grace of GOD this mother could be you. This could be your child, grandchild, niece, nephew. What a difference a moment can mean to that person or their family.
From an old dandelion.
Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.. Speak kindly.
Leave the rest to God!!!!
- Anonymous
I am sharing it here because it came to me after a really bad day. See we had to go work on some life skills. It's not easy watching them struggle with things that others take for granted as being super easy to accomplish. It's not easy watching them attempt a skill that they struggle with in hopes of giving them real world experience which might make it click this time. (Sure it's easier to do it for them. but then what happens when I'm gone? who will do it for them then? Trust me they have to learn no matter how hard on me it is) It's taking some time the cashier is understanding but not the people in line behind us. Unfortunately the lesson learned has nothing to do with what was being taught and practiced. What was learned is that there are too many weeds in the rose garden at least that's what I learned. What they learned is that being Blue Roses is something to be ashamed of.
So the next time your privileged to see a blue rose. Please stop and consider that there is more going on than what your seeing and that Not every parent or care giver of a blue rose is doing something to be deliberately inconveniencing for you when working on a skill. But then maybe it's just me.
Monday, September 21, 2009
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