“Kathleen? Do you have any suggestions on how to get your daughter to focus?”
My heart sank. The question was coming from from the friendly face of the children’s ministry director at our church, as she peeked into the room where I was teaching Sunday School. It wasn’t an odd question – I knew what must be happening in the room down the hall. My seven year old, who has a rare disability known as Trisomy 12p (too rare to have a jazzy name, I suppose) was yelling. Or refusing to follow directions. Or taking things from other children. Hopefully not hitting.
“Give her a job to do that she can be successful at and lets her move around a bit. Or I can come get her.”
“Oh, no need.” she responded.
I finished class with a smile on the outside and tears on the inside. There is always a flurry of emotions when things like this happen. Frustration, because she won’t act “normal.” Sadness, because I know she acts this way when she’s uncomfortable and doesn’t know how to handle her emotions. Guilt, because I should have taught her better. And insecurity, because I’m wondering what those teachers are thinking – do they feel slighted, because they have the problem child in their class? Are they annoyed with me, that I can’t make her behave?
After class my husband and I pick her up, and I thank and apologize, thank and apologize, thank and apologize. I wonder if next week will be better. I wonder how many bad weeks we can have before I’ll have to pull her out of the class.
Next week, one of Teagan’s teachers approaches me, and I dread hearing what is coming…
They’ve come up with a solution. One of them has a friend who is a special education teacher, and she is going to start coming to Sunday school to help Teagan.
This woman is coming to a church she doesn’t go to every Sunday. To help my daughter.
Think about that. No one asked them to figure this out, they could have said “not my problem.” Out of the goodness of their hearts, they figured out a way for my daughter to stay a part of the class.
I stammered a thank you, and it wasn’t until we were on our way home that I became overwhelmed with their kindness. I emailed the director a thank you and asked her to forward it to her teachers, and got this in reply:
“Please don’t ever feel bad. She is no different than all the other children. She is unique just as much as any of the others. Each one acts differently for different reasons and we’re always trying to figure out what works best for each one.”
The life of a special needs parent can be pretty lonely. Thanks to ladies like these, it’s a little less so. They didn’t have to do that. I’m so glad they did.
Rocking Lion 