I wanted one most of my early childhood, and when I was twelve I was blessed with her. My sister. Julie. I always wondered if we would become close friends because of our age difference, but we have and it is very special. Then when I married Dan at age 21, I immediately had five more sisters! Those relationships have become more cherished over the years of time.
This week we said goodbye to Sally, one of Dan’s sisters. She was born into their family as the seventh of nine children, with the complications of Cerebral Palsy. Sally was almost ten when we got married, and living at home with the family, including their grandmother. When we all had a family dinner, Sally would sit near Dan and me on the end of the long rectangular table, next to her grandma. Because she could not walk, she was in her special chair. She was blessed to be part of a large, loving family, but the biggest blessing came to those around her, sharing her space.
Sally could not talk in the way most of us communicate, but her movement, her smile, her sounds, and especially those expression-filled eyes would say volumes. She could tell you many things with those eyes! I loved her deep laugh, and later in her life when she resided in a group home, our visits would often end up in laughter over something she would find amusing. One time we both became hysterical and loud, and I told her we had to stop or I would get kicked out! That made her laugh even more, as Sally was quite a tease. I enjoyed going to play Bingo with Sally where she lived, and she loved trying to run into me with her electric wheel chair when we scooted up to get her prizes. It was never a mean gesture, just a way for her to have a little fun.
Dan has related to me how much compassion and care their family has learned from Sally. He was almost a teenager when she was born, and he and his dad made a homemade chair on wheels so they could take her outside. She loved to be out with the other kids, of course, and they didn’t worry too much if she got dirty. Sally loved the excitement of normal childhood playing on the farm, sometimes tipping over in the gravel or mud. Dan said they even exposed her to the milking barn, so she was a little more than muddy sometimes!
With all of Sally’s disabilities, it did not affect her mind. She was spot on with her emotions. If something was sad, she had tears. Sometimes sobs. If it was funny, oftentimes her eyes would smile first, but then that deep laugh would erupt. And if something didn’t agree to her liking, she could definitely express that with her eyes and a groan. She didn’t like to eat fish, and when Dan would tease her that they were having fish for supper, she would pinch her nose shut and give him the evil eye. She was an amazing, sweet, spunky, wonderful sister. What a blessing we will miss!
The following poem is one that was special to Sally’s mom. I asked if I could share it with you this week, as I was so honored to be loved and part of Sally’s life . Rest in peace, sweet sister.
Heaven’s Very Special Child
(author unknown)
A meeting was held quite far from earth. “It’s time again for another birth,” said the angels to the Lord.
“This special child will need much love.”
Her progress may seem very slow, Accomplishments she may not show.
And she’ll require extra care, From the folks she meets way down there.
She may not run or laugh or play; Her thoughts may seem quite far away.
In many ways she won’t adapt. And she’ll be known as handicapped.
So, let’s be careful where she’s sent, We want her life to be content.
Please, Lord, find parents who, Will do a special job for you.
They will not realize right away, The leading role they’re asked to play.
But with this child sent from above, Comes stronger faith and richer love.
And soon they’ll know the privilege given, In caring for this gift from Heaven.
Their precious charge, so meek and mild; In Heaven’s very special child.
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