Like many people, I believe that where the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window…or two. This is especially true with a beautiful young student I know. She is blind, yet she possesses a vision much clearer than mine.
She has an aide to assist her, carry a Braille writer and book shelf, and offer her an elbow for guidance in clogged hallways. Of course, the assistant does so much more; type up her tests in Braille, coordinate state assistance in Braille and abacus work for blind students, etc. As a substitute, I am merely a pack mule and guide for her as she navigates her school time world.
As for the many windows the Lord has opened for her, memory shines the brightest. Not only can she remember classroom material, but also math examples from weeks ago. When the teacher put a problem on the board for review, she immediately remembered the two-step operation and numbers and didn’t need her abacus, her “scrap paper” according to the teacher from state services, in order to answer it. While I’m repeating the problem on the board to her, thinking she couldn’t remember it, she informs me that she remembered it from weeks ago and knew the correct answer.
Kindness shines through her smile as she greets all who address themselves to her, while goodness sings through her voice. A confidence springs from her step. Indeed, when the hallways are clear, I can’t keep up with her and her sweeping cane. Of course, I’m lugging over 30 pounds with Braille writer, shelf, and my personal bag. At least the school provides a book caddy for her to wheel behind now. Last year when I substituted as her aide, I had to help carry the Braille books too. So I’m lugging less this year, and I shed my own personal bag at lunchtime to help with the afternoon classroom run.
Now if I can only stop asking her what color the science notebook is, I’d feel so much better.