Lost Childhood

I was in the grocery store last night, and saw the cutest little girl. This was no ordinary little girl, but a disabled little girl. She must have been about 3 or 4 years old, and she was sitting in her little wheelchair. Her younger brother watched her from his perch in the shopping cart while their father did the shopping. Whenever they moved to another aisle, the little girl would hang onto the back of the shopping cart and roll along. This was both very cute and very sad. Cute in that they were both so young and innocent. The world is a big place and they haven’t even begun to experience life around them yet. Sad in that the little girl will never fully experience life in the way so many other children will. She’ll adjust, she’ll make the most out of the situation she’s in, but I can almost hear the other children as they say things like, “What’s it like not being able to walk?”, “Will you always be in that chair?”, and “Does it hurt?”. Not out of cruelty, just out of curiosity. But still, those words can hurt because it’s a constant reminder of how others view you. Eventually she’ll hear those lonely words, “We don’t hate you, but you just can’t do the same things we can!” as the other children run off to play.

I was in a wheel briefly when I was a kid.