People stare at my family. They just do. It’s a fact of life. My husband and I are Caucasian. We adopted three children from Asia. Out in the country where we live, there isn’t a lot of ethnic diversity. We stand out. The ladies at the grocery store and the bank remember us. We’re kind of unforgettable.
Lately, though, I’ve been feeling the stares of the general public more and more. And not in the curious, how-sweet-they-adopted-those-kids kind of way. Our youngest daughter has multiple cognitive and physical disabilities. She has an unusual gait and drags her feet. Even though she’s almost fifteen, I have to hold her hand in the parking lot and help her in the bathroom. She cannot order off the menu, because the waitress can’t understand her. We once had a server who scolded us for not letting our daughter order for herself.
You’ll notice us. There’s no doubt about that. And don’t stare at the ground in order to avoid looking at us. But remember that we are all created in God’s image, including my sweet daughter. Instead of staring, smile at us. Say hello. Offer to help if my hands are full and my daughter is being stubborn. You’ll never know what that means to a mother at loose ends.
“And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.” Matthew 10:42
Liz Tolsma is the author of several WWII novels and prairie romance novellas. She is a popular speaker and an editor and resides next to a Wisconsin farm field with her husband and their two daughters. Her son is a U.S. Marine. She enjoys reading, walking, gardening and camping. Please visit her blog, The Story behind the Story, at www.liztolsma.com and follow her on Facebook, Twitter (@LizTolsma) and Pinterest. She is also a regular contributor to the Pencildancer blog and the Midwest Almanac blog.