I love Tuesdays because every Tuesday morning my living room is full of adorable little children and their mothers. For almost a year now, I've taught an early childhood music class in my home for my son George and his friends. My primary motivation in organizing this class was so that George would have a music class. I want him to experience music making in a group-- and I want him to tolerate being in a group.
After a couple of months of trial and error, George was finally able to handle being in class for twenty minutes. But each week brings its own unique set of challenges for George-- and he often has to retreat to a place away from the other children.
One of the reasons I love Tuesdays is that I see short little miracles walking, toddling and crawling all around me. Because of the developmental difficulties that George experiences, I am especially aware of the achievements of other children. This awareness has not brought envy or bitternes into my heart, but I feel joy in witnessing it. But the reality of how difficult it is for George is often very painful.
Some pain comes from people who are trying to be helpful and encouraging. Someone close to me recently observed "You know Rachel, George is looking more normal." I couldn't believe that she had said such a thing-- but what amazed me even more was that she was unaware of the cruelty of her observation. It got me thinking . . . at what age do we begin judging other people? When do we start treating others differently based on those judgements? Can you remember the time when you began labeling and categorizing your peers?
Last Tuesday brought me a new perspective. I was able to see George not as his mother but through the eyes of a child. In music class we were doing a finger play "Whoops Johnny", and we went around the room saying each child's name in the place of "Johnny." My George had fled to his playroom to get away from too much stimulation, and his friends (the twins) Katie and Lexi were leading the activity. They would cheerfully call out a name of a child in the room until everyone had a turn. Then Katie called out someone's name that I hadn't expected "GEORGE!" George wasn't even in the room, but that didn't matter to Katie.
Now, you might be interested to know that George has never said "Hi" to Katie, but apparently that didn't matter. George has never played with her, but that didn't matter. George is George, and George is a friend.
Does Katie know that George is almost three and has yet to speak his first word? Does Katie know that George wears headphones in church because the music and the noise is distressing to him? Does Katie know what it means to be delayed, disabled, or handicapped?
One day Jesus' disciples argued and debated something they felt was really important. They wanted to know which of them would be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Jesus called a little child to him and said "Whosoever shall humble himself as this little child, the same is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
I think a child's ability to love, embrace and include IS the greatest. So what do children know that we don't? Children know that the most wonderful thing in the world is love and that the most important thing in the world is people. Their hearts tell them they should love . . . and they listen!
Children really are the greatest.