Cerabral Palsy Awareness Ribbon made of stained glass

A good friend of mine and fellow artist June Alexandra creates custom stained glass. http://www.alexandraglassart.com/contact.html  I recently asked her to design a green ribbon for me. It is by far the most precious piece of art I own. I hang it in my kitchen window and every morning when I make my usual cup of tea, a little piece of light shimmers through and it makes me smile. It reminds me of Hailey. It gives me a bit of hope, it also reminds me that I need to continue my quest to raise awareness about C.P. (Thank you June) Not only to make people aware that there is a condition out there called Cerebral Palsy, but that the people who have C.P. and other disabilities are very important people, just like you and I. I must admit that before Hailey was born I had no idea or clear understanding about life as a disabled person....how would I, why should I, how would you? I didn't care about taking the time to understand. I was far too busy for that. Then suddenly it stopped me dead in my tracks. Bang! You have absolutely no choice in the matter, and your priorities are now crystal clear. There is not a single thing in the world that is more important to me.

June has so graciously offered to help not only raise awareness of C.P. but to help raise money for Hailey's Conductive Education fund. She will make a ribbon fashioned out of stained glass so that you too can let the light shine in your window as well as raise awareness and show support for Hailey and many other people like her. To remind people that we will never stop fighting the fight.

For information about purchasing your stained glass ribbon for $20.00 plus shipping, please contact me, harrold.janet@gmail.com

If my special needs blogger friends wouldn't mind copying this post to your blog I would really appreciate it. Thank you

I am The Child

I Am the Child
I am the child who cannot talk. You often pity me, I see it in your eyes. You wonder how much I am aware of -- I see that as well. I am aware of much -- whether you are happy or sad or fearful, patient or impatient, full of love and desire, or if you are just doing your duty by me. I marvel at your frustration, knowing mine to be far greater, for I cannot express myself or my needs as you do.

You cannot conceive my isolation, so complete it is at times. I do not gift you with clever conversation, cute remarks to be laughed over and repeated. I do not give you answers to your everyday questions, responses over my well-being, sharing my needs, or comments about the world about me. I do not give you rewards as defined by the world's standards -- great strides in development that you can credit yourself; I do not give you understanding as you know it.

What I give you is so much more valuable -- I give you instead opportunities. Opportunities to discover the depth of your character, not mine; the depth of your love, your commitment, your patience, your abilities; the opportunity to explore your spirit more deeply than you imagined possible. I drive you further than you would ever go on your own, working harder, seeking answers to your many questions with no answers. I am the child who cannot talk.

I am the child who cannot walk. The world seems to pass me by. You see the longing in my eyes to get out of this chair, to run and play like other children. There is much you take for granted. I want the toys on the shelf, I need to go to the bathroom, oh I've dropped my fork again. I am dependant on you in these ways. My gift to you is to make you more aware of your great fortune, your healthy back and legs, your ability to do for yourself. Sometimes people appear not to notice me; I always notice them. I feel not so much envy as desire, desire to stand upright, to put one foot in front of the other, to be independent. I give you awareness. I am the child who cannot walk.

I am the child who is mentally impaired. I don't learn easily, if you judge me by the world's measuring stick, what I do know is infinite joy in simple things. I am not burdened as you are with the strifes and conflicts of a more complicated life. My gift to you is to grant you the freedom to enjoy things as a child, to teach you how much your arms around me mean, to give you love. I give you the gift of simplicity. I am the child who is mentally impaired.

I am the disabled child. I am your teacher. If you allow me, I will teach you what is really important in life. I will give you and teach you unconditional love. I gift you with my innocent trust, my dependency upon you. I teach you about how precious this life is and about not taking things for granted. I teach you about forgetting your own needs and desires and dreams. I teach you giving. Most of all I teach you hope and faith. I am the disabled child.

- Author Unknown -