When my son, Francis, was about 4 years old, we went to a nearby zoo.

Being visually impaired, he would get as close as he could to see the animals, generally getting quite a whiff of their aroma. Near the anteater cage, he turned to look at the stroller near him and said quite excitedly, “Mom, look! One of the animals is in the stroller!” He started to walk over to get a better look when I realized that the toddler in the stroller had a huge facial defect, an unrepaired cleft palate that seemed to engulf his face. Two teeth were exposed, adding to his somewhat scary look.

Many other moms may have grabbed their toddler’s hand and run off in the other direction, but I took this as a teaching lesson. Smiling at the mortified mom, I explained to Francis that the child was born with this disability the same way he was born with a vision loss. We walked closer to the stroller so Francis could see him better and I asked the mom if it was okay to talk to and touch him, and she nodded a relieved “yes”.

“Hi, there big boy!” I said to the toddler, who started to wave his arms with excitement. “Are you enjoying the zoo?” He shook his mop of curly hair yes, and a happy guttural sound came from his throat.

Francis said, “I like the monkeys best!” and then he instinctually took the boy’s hand in his, holding his fingers tight as he rubbed one finger against the back of his hand. “It is nice to meet you!” he said in his polite voice as we were leaving. As he smiled up at the mom, tears were running down her face. “Why was she crying?” Francis asked as we walked away. “Because she loves her son and she appreciated that we accepted him as he is. That’s all any mom wants”. 

Since that day Francis, as well as my other children, have learned that “God don’t make junk!” Every child and every human being is valuable, even if they look different from us. By reassuring them of this fact, they shower their usual friendliness on everyone, including their Uncle Curtis who is severely disabled and strangers with disabilities whom we meet in the mall or on the street. As a family we have worked at soup kitchens, made sandwiches for the homeless which the children help deliver, and gone on trips with young adults with physical disabilities where my children have enjoyed either pushing the wheelchairs, or sitting in the lap of a person in the wheelchair as they are pushed. They have learned to be sighted guides for the blind and conversational in sign language when they meet the deaf, (learned because Marie, their sister, is deaf.) Because of their knowledge that everyone has value, the fact that they, themselves, have a disability is of no consequence. The fact that they so easily help others provides proof of their own amazing self-esteem. 

It isn’t difficult to accept others. It starts with a smile and a hello, and maybe a pat on the hand. It opens up a whole new world; learning about the existence of children and people we may have previously avoided and ignored. “Variety is the spice of life”, my mom used to say. May we all live fragrant and more interesting lives.