INCLUDED

"Thank you. Thank you"

Tears filled his eyes and began to spill over his cheek, lined with the creases of wisdom and experience and stubble.

I would guess he was in his late 60s, a retired gentleman taking advantage of a small break in the cloud and rain to take a walk around the local pond.

We'd stopped to chat - uncharacteristically for me, as I don't usually do small talk with random strangers when I'm out like that. Today was different though. We greeted politely as we passed each other on the sunny part of the path and then his wife - who clearly has some struggles with social skills! - ignored my moving on and continued the conversation.

"Cack cack" interjected their beautiful grandchild, as she flapped her arms and pointed in the direction of a terrified looking duck who'd come a bit closer to the edge of the water.

Clearly very enthusiastic about the ducks, I bent down and showed the girl (I'm guessing she's about five) the photo on my camera screen that I'd just taken of the mother duck sheltering her chicks. She didn't talk but ooohed and aaaaahed and used her own language to respond. I told her where she could find them and how, if she was REALLY quiet, they may let her get as close to them as I did. She tugges on my arm, pointed to my camera, and then to herself. Realising what she wanted, I said 'yes' to her request and took her photo. She posed for a couple of shots and then giggled at as I showed her what I'd taken and told her how pretty she looked.

I stood up ready to continue my walk, and that's when I saw the tears in her grandfather's eyes, and heard those words, that he choked on a little: "Thank you. Thank you"

I must have looked a little blank because he continued to thank me for talking to his grandaughter. Not for taking her photo. Not for telling her about the ducks. For talking to her. Apparently in the years they've helped look after her and taken her out and aout with them, no-one......NO-ONE......has done that. You see, she has Down's Syndrome. She has that extra chromosome which has caused so many so much confusion, pain, difficulty, joy, laughter and love. That extra chromosome that, when detected, causes people to question the validity of that life inside the womb.

I don't know if anyone did any of that when she was in the womb, but it happens. I don't know her parents and their attitudes. I don't know if her condition was undetected and if it was, what her parents would have chosen. For many though the sad reality is that when someone determines they have that extra chromosome, their lives are called into question. But this one, no matter what was or wasn't said or done, this one lives. And she is a delight. Just like so many who have conditions, disabilities and challenges that set them apart from 'the rest' of us. And like 'the rest' of the people around them, they are created by the one who holds the universe in his hands. They have a purpose and a destiny, a spirit and a soul.

It makes me sad that so many people are not sure how to talk with this little girl. And I'm sure mostly that's what it is. They just don't know. Can she talk? Can she understand? What if she says or does something unexpected? Is it OK to look at her features? Is it OK to ask questions?

So. Much. Fear.

So moments like that in my life have made me, a former teacher, think hard about our schools, about our values, about how we include kids who have extra needs or challenges. I don't want to live in a world where my short conversation with a four year old girl brings tears to her grandfather's eyes because it's so unusual.

I want to live in a way where people know they are valued, loved, accepted, INCLUDED.

Inclusion in our schools is a tough issue and there are no easy or blanket answers. But maybe, just maybe, if we saw more of it, we'd see more of a comfort level with those who are different. and maybe, just maybe,.......no, DEFINITELY our lives will be richer. Less garndfather's would be weeping as for once, just once in the four years of this child's life she was treated as any other.

I don't say this naively either. I say this as one who has friends with children with a range of challenges including Autism, Aspergers, Down's, ADHD, EBD, Cerebral Palsy and all kinds of unnamed/unlabeled developmental challenges. I myself have people I consider friends with some of these diagnoses. I've taught, coached and taken care of some of them. I currently volunteer alongside a few in a cafe set up as a church plant/outreach. I've never lived with the day to day, week after week, year after year challenges, it's true. I can't pretend to know the struggles. I can't pretend to 'get' what doing life looks like when faced with severe limitations. I can't say for sure what those kids and friends actually go through. But I can say for sure that my life is richer because they're a part of it. Appreciated. Genuinely loved. Included. If that's how I feel about those people, maybe our schools would - with lots of work, lots of communication, lots of overcoming of hurdles - be the same?

And maybe, moments like the one I describe would be a thing of the past, and acceptance, understanding and a lack of fear would be the norm.

For now, I know I can't change a system or the hearts of other people toward those with disabilities. I just need to continue loving the one in front of me. I need to purpose that regardless of attitude, colour, disability or otherwise, ask God to put the love he has in my heart, and to say with my actions and my words "You have value, you are loved, you are included".