When I was little folks who were slower (mostly mentally but also physically) were called “retarded.”  Half the time it was not even meant to be disparaging.  This is a particularly sensitive issue with me because my father contracted polio at three days old and was made fun of mercilessly for most of his formative years.  He wore leg braces and no one wanted to play with him, including his own supposed father.  It’s a long story, but he was not able to walk on his own until he was a teenager.  Daddy met Mama in high school but there was another boy who was competing for her.  He bragged about beating Daddy up in junior high; what he neglected to tell her was that he tied a crippled boy to a tree and pummeled him to a pulp.  When Mama eventually learned the truth (not from Daddy) she never had anything to do with the cruel boy again.  My little one was about two and a half when she began taking swim lessons on her own.  There was a blond haired, blue-eyed boy in her class who at first did not like to get in the water.  He cried a lot.  It upset my little one so much that she refused to get into the water unless he did.  When I told my tiny little girl how proud I was of her she could not understand why.  I told her it made my heart so happy because she wanted to protect the little boy who was different.  I will never forget her asking, “Different how?”  I so wished my father had been alive to hear that.  Eventually both kids moved to different swim schools but we as mothers have tried to stay in touch.  A bowling birthday party invitation came and I asked my little one if she remembered him.  She looked at me as if to say “of course” and then answered, “Yes, he was my friend from my old swim school.”  The little boy’s mother also asked her son if he remembered my girl and he said yes, that she was the one with the curly hair.  What is so remarkable is that they had not seen each other in over half their young lives — and yet they each remembered the other.  The bowling party was a blast!  The kids bowled, there was an arcade and there were delicious gluten free mini bundt cakes.  We all resumed like we’d seen each other yesterday, when really it was about two and a half years.  The ancient Greek Theologian Saint Basil once said:

“A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds.  A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.”

I believe this boy’s mother is extraordinary and has a strong, positive, can-do attitude; her son will go far.  Knowing my girl has loved her friend without once noticing his differences has me bowled over.