95 Pennies and a Nickel
Today I ask myself, what is equal about our creation? We don’t all have the same intellectual or physical capacities. My brother Adam came to this earth “disabled” by the world’s standards. He can’t communicate in a traditional way. Some say he’s not even aware of his surroundings. For his sake I sometimes wish that were true. If he must be a prisoner of his body, wouldn’t it be great if he could live his life unaware of his chains?
However, logic pushes this fantasy out of my mind. You see, I hide candy bars in my room; never in the same place, and still he finds them. My brother is aware alright. His hugs are not a reflex action.
I remember his baby blessing. Ten men placed one hand under him, the other resting on the shoulder of the man before, creating a circle. Although no longer in my line of vision, I could see Adam in my mind’s eye, his face turned heavenward. Suddenly the veil became thin; I could sense the presence of a loving being smiling down at him as I took comfort in my father’s words.
Today Adam is nine years old; the ward has been praying and fasting on his his behalf. His epileptic fits are more frequent and my parents have authorized every medicinal and holistic treatment known to man. Scenes keep flashing through my mind, like the time I went with Dad to pick Adam up from school. My father went into a tirade, “Why do you have a helmet on him? Can’t you see you’re singling him out, making him look strange to his classmates and their parents?!”