Recently one of our college young men stopped by our home to pick up something. Kevin was on the phone and I was in my wheelchair, awkwardly facing the kitchen, where I couldn’t turn to see him or interact easily.
When Kevin got off the phone a few minutes later, the young man came around to face me and apologized for not interacting with me. “I sometimes have a hard time knowing how to relate to you,” he said with care. I appreciated his willingness to vulnerably share his feelings.
I replied on my eyegaze computer, “I totally understand, before ALS I would have had a hard time knowing how to relate to someone like me also!” We then had a nice conversation.
A few days later I had an appointment with the eye doctor. I always feel quite self conscious pulling into a waiting room full of people, Kevin driving my wheelchair and pulling a wagon full of my equipment and supplies (I jokingly tell people that I come with accessories). I can almost picture big question marks hanging over everyone’s heads as they desperately try not to stare and figure out what’s going on with me.
As we pulled into this waiting room there was a boy, probably about 12, who immediately waved and said “Hi” like there was nothing unusual about our entrance. Kevin introduced us and invited the boy, his younger brother and grandma over to see how my eyegaze computer worked. Kevin shared information about ALS and they seemed fascinated, as well as the rest of the curious onlookers in the waiting room!
When the tech called them back for their appointment, the young man leaned over, looked me in the eyes and quietly said, “I’m really sorry you have this disease ma’am!” I was truly touched and overwhelmed! Bless him! That young man was above and beyond most adults in the caring, sympathizing department!
The office staff were also so welcoming, interested and helpful, like they saw someone like me everyday, complete with a rag and bandanna over my mouth to catch my ever- flowing drool. We almost felt like celebrities as they showered us with warmth and acceptance.
These interactions were a breath of fresh air amidst the usual awkward stares when in public. It felt like soothing lotion applied on dry, chapped skin.
So what are some things one can do to break down the barriers and help someone with special needs feel accepted? Here are four suggestions:
1) Interact. It’s ok to say if you’re unsure how to relate.
2) Ask questions. Most don’t mind sharing information about their situation.
3) Look them in the eye and express genuine care and acceptance.
4) See past their differences and seek to encourage and connect on a personal level.
It’s not always easy to push past your comfort zone, but it can make a world of difference in someone’s life who may already feel awkward or lesser than the “normal” population.
When Jesus walked this earth, He demonstrated a tender care for these special ones. He said, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” Matthew 25:40 Let’s care for Him by caring for others.
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