I AM AN AMAZING CHILD

I AM AN AMAZING CHILD”

==========================

A children's book written exclusively for grown-ups or

a grown-ups' book written exclusively for children....

you decide!

==========

by grandma geny heywood

The story I am about to tell you should be challenging for you to discuss with your friends and your family. It is about how you might like to talk about death to children. I write about this view because I experienced the subject matter when I was a very young child and sort of understood, or I should say, I accepted, the fact that some little children do leave us and go to a mysterious place.

When I was five years of age, I had the opportunity to be allowed on several occasions, to spend time visiting a brand new arrival in our village, a baby boy by the name of Michel.

I had already seen several newborn human babies before. In my rural community, there never seemed to be a great shortage of this type of hullabaloo. But I am talking about the early nineteen thirties here, you understand, many babies were born and many babies died. Too many of them would fly into infinity before getting the chance to learn what their life could have been all about.

Because in those days we had very little entertainment, few telephones, no television, not even a radio, so when a squirming or screaming new infant appeared on the scene, and you were rather world-weary, visiting the fresh little critter was a diversion to be highly prized.

We children were always happy to follow mothers and grandmothers rushing about with hot water bottles, bundles of cloth diapers, little knitted booties that were always made in the same funny shape, and of course other little gifts to be presented to the mother of each new little infant.

I must point out here that many gifts were actually hand-me-downs. New stuff was rare and since nothing was wasted, I saw my mother making small packages of tiny shirts and cloth-diapers that had been used for my brother and for me in the past years.

All the same, I must confide to you that the dish of sugar coated almond candies that was traditional offering to all visitors at the head of a newborn’s crib, was certainly a welcomed attraction to my own sweet tooth.

Thus, the little human creatures arriving to distract the everyday life of our village were to me absolutely compelling. But I am digressing. Let me tell you my story about Baby Michel and how he and I became acquainted.

A young pair of fellow citizens of my village had anxiously been waiting for the day that would transform the configuration of this happy couple, this entity, into a complete and genuine family unit.

The entire extended group of relatives was expecting the arrival of this very first child of theirs with great anticipation. However, it appears that after a difficult labor, the young mother finally had given birth to a beautiful baby boy, but he did not appear very physically powerful and it was evident that something might be wrong with the little one.

The midwife had done the best job she could while helping in bringing the small cherub into the world, yet Baby Michel did not respond to the smack of the midwife when she held him upside down.

Oh yes! I know, it might be difficult for you to believe but they used to do that in my young days, hold a baby upside down and whack the poor little helpless thing on the bottom to make the baby cry. That was the way they made a newborn take the first breath.

If you ask me, had the midwife waited a few seconds more, the child might have breathed on his own anyway when he or she was “good and ready”.

To my understanding, the smacking was a horrible penalty to pay, just when you are about to start your new job on the life stage. Since I was made to understand that everybody had gotten this sort of initiation for thousands of years, I figured that it must have been one way to prepare human beings for the difficulties associated to the business of living on planet earth.

Added to the bottom whacking to which he did not respond, Michel probably had tried all he could to howl, yowl or scream, but had met with too many difficulties while getting out of his mother’s belly into the fresh air of our village.

Naturally, after such an ordeal as his complicated childbirth, he did not take too well to the breast of his mother either when offered to suckle; he did not cry, did not move and his color was not what was expected of a perfectly normal size, newborn child.

Being from then on, sort of forced fed with an eye dropper and then with a baby bottle, he showed every sign that he was going to do things his way and nobody else's.

The village doctor said that there was nothing to be done but wait and see if, with time, Michel would decide to beat the surviving probabilities. He could very well, said the knowledgeable medical expert, beat the odds, make a turnabout and attain a strong constitution. For the time being it was apparent that Baby Michel had been born not entirely, adequately, physically prepared.

It was obvious that the doctor did not know what Michel had in store for us all. It appeared that the little critter had already made up his mind that he was not going to abide by any of the village century old nursery rules!

After being declared by everyone concerned, as being a disabled child, Baby Michel must have thought to himself: " OK, I know that I am a normal size baby, seven pounds is nothing to sneeze at and, I am possibly larger than the average bear. It looks like I needed to inhale more oxygen while helping my Mom to give me birth; I took a bit too much time getting out seeing the world I guess. I felt really cozy in there and I was not in a great rush to get out".

Michel was probably wondering to himself if maybe he should not have been more attentive to the voice of the midwife in following directions but decided..."Oh well, like Popeye said: I am what I am".

It could be that Baby Michel tried his very best to fulfill the expectations of his family and the hopes of the world around him, I do not know, he did not give me those details.

Looking back at the situation, I guess he decided that since everybody believed there was something wrong so early with his health, he might as well try to go back in uncharted territory and try another plan of action. If you hit too many stumbling blocks before getting baptized, your chances at what humans call normal living might be reduced a bit.

So time went by and nothing really changed, nothing new happened. Our sweet little infant hung around for a few weeks, swallowing a bit of warm milk from the baby bottle, never making a sound, never crying, but allowing everybody to fuss over him. Everybody stroke his head and told him what a beautiful babe and what a good little child he was. I remember thinking that my mother was really making a bit too much of a demonstration and thinking that she sure did not fuss over me that much. I felt a bit jealous I guess.

Michel's Mom and Dad called him their ANGEL. I was allowed to spend lots of time leaning on the railing of his crib, staring at him, watching for a sign from his mind.

That candy dish had been refilled several times for my convenience anyway so I just stayed with Michel and enjoyed staring at the cherub. I was expecting him to suddenly wake up and converse with me but he did not make any sign at communicating, well, not at first that is.

Since I was persistent, talking to him softly, and murmuring little lullabies that my grandma had sang to me since I was born, I was wondering why this baby boy did not respond any faster. So, with patience, I kept on trying to draw his attention with my psyche.

I had heard my mother say that sometimes, she could read our mind like magic. If that was true then I could surely perform a hushed communication with my little friend to see what would happen.

I figured that if my mother was right, and she seemed to be sort of accurate rather frequently, then it was well worth for me to be patient and have a trial at the paranormal.

Well, would you believe, suddenly it worked! Baby Michel heard my silent prodding and prying of his mind and at last, he responded. It had taken me over a week.

Now, as the days moved on, I realized that this newborn must really be a supernatural being, especially since his Mom called him an angel. He was suddenly, silently, conversing with me, listening to what I was saying, reaching out with his little spirit towards mine. We were corresponding beautifully.

I bet you are wondering what our communications were all about. Well, I can certainly enlighten you. He was telling me that in the world, there are indeed untold millions, even billions of children, all piled up in their parents’ DNA, just waiting to enter our world.

Now that was news not to be kept under wrap. I know it might sound far-fetched, but it is true. He also told me that there is a huge diversity in the heritage contributions. So he took the time to explain to me all about that…

Many children will appear with long array of differences he said, many are made of different color and size, some are big, some are small, some can walk, some cannot, and some can sing when others just have no desire to show off and get on a stage. He even said that some children are born in little bundles of twos, of threes and even in larger numbers. This was news to me, I had never heard about such happening. Yet, a few months later, I learnt that a cousin of my mother gave birth to a boy and a girl all in one kickoff, right there in her house just as she had taken a big apple pie from the oven. My youth sure was a learning experience I tell you !

So Baby Michel was in many ways improving my knowledge. He said that many little children, once they have arrived on our planet, will decide to use crutches or wheelchairs so they can move about. He told me that some children will be born with something that is often called handicaps.

This is to say that some young ones will be expected to cope with some sort of physical or mental difficulties thrown at them by life. Then, they are often expected to cope with that impairment during their entire existence.

Michel told me that when you think about it, there is really nothing to worry about. If these children learn to cope with all sorts of disabilities, the rest of the populace should learn to accept them the way they are.

The world has room for each one he said, so we must learn to live together and get along with or without handicaps.

During one of the last interactions I had with Michel, he explained that soon he was going to leave his family, to scuttle off and go on a long journey. a very long trip he claimed. He assured me that we must not worry about him. At first, I was a bit undecided if my brain was going to absorb all the information he was giving me.

He was using the words expiring, death, passing over and although I knew that I had heard the words before, I had to think about the actual significance of it and its implications. Since he said that I should not worry about it, I did not try to understand the confused details of the long trip he was going to undertake.

I knew that whenever we were going on a bus to visit our grand parents, that alone was a big undertaking. It was only a twelve mile journey but it took at least a couple of hours traveling because of the driver having to stop often to pick up and drop off people in every village along the way.

When I asked Michel for more details about his journey, he said he was certainly going to go much further than twelve miles and he said he was ready for the trip. He also mentioned he would not need a suitcase. To me that was a surprise because when my mom took me anywhere she insisted on bringing my clean pajamas and underwear in a cloth bag. She always folded in a small bunch of perfumed herbs that she grew, like mint, thyme and rosemary.

Michel's brain was communicating silently with mine and did so very well, even if other people could not hear anything. When I tried to explain to the citizenry around what he was telling me, I was told that I was imagining things, but I can assure you that I was not.

Being a young nipper myself, I was not even in school yet, I felt that at last I was really conversing with this newborn babe because he had picked me, imagine, me, alone, as being the one who would understand his messages. Never mind if other people could not get the picture and did not believe that I could. Grownups sometimes can be very strange. Don't you agree?

Then one morning, I arrived at Michel’s house and the crib was empty, there was a tall candle burning nearby, everybody was quiet, his Mom was hiding her face in a large white handkerchief and sobbing while leaning onto the kitchen table. She was resting her head on a white painted box. There was a bouquet of white roses on top of it. I went close to her and bent over to smell the roses. She broke one off in the middle of the bouquet and gave it to me saying it was in memory of Michel. So I kept it for many years in a little paper bag in my room.

As I hung around in Baby Michel's house, that morning, I learnt that during the night, he had decided to take over the plan of his own future and do his own thing. Well I knew about the trip anyway since Michel himself had told me about that journey. I was told that he sort of flew out of his bed to join other cherubs and of course I never saw him again.

By then, the last dish of sugar coated almonds was empty anyway…so after a long while, I went back home and decided to go help my old neighbor pulling weeds in his garden. His wife would give me cookies in exchange for the help I gave her husband, but she was a little stingy with them, she only handed me a couple at a time and, trust me, I could easily have gobbled up five or six because, she was a good cookie maker.

For many days after that, I tried to explain to people what I had learnt from my young friend Baby Michel, but nobody appeared to really believe my story. So I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. I never spoke of it any more, until to you, today, that is.

I don't remember a funeral, but in any case, I was not even depressed to know that Baby Michel had departed and passed into another world. Everybody appeared to be very sad but I was not gloomy at all, I did not cry since he had told me that we should not be unhappy or concerned about him. So, I decided to comply with his counsel and not to be preoccupied by what would happen to my departed little friend.

At night, from my own small bed and looking out the window, I visualized baby Michel all dressed up in the beautiful christening white lace garment that he was wearing in the church during his baptism.

I knew the outfit well since I had been invited to attend his christening and had even held him for a few seconds after the priest had rubbed some oil on his grayish little face and poured a bit of holy water on his head.

Looking at the dazzling scintillating sky, I was sure that I could see Michel way up there with his beautiful golden angel’s wings. Yes, I could see him flying about the dark firmament, happily touching, stretching, flipping and rearranging the stars of the Milky Way. He was really having a great time on his way to that new world he had spoken of.

He had mentioned to me that human people call that other world Heaven and that it sounded like a good description to him. I too had agreed on the choice of name. It sounded great to me and I figured that if later on he wanted to try coming to live on our planet Earth again, he might just have another trial at kicking the can of life if and when he so chose. But then of course I had left the decision up to him.

I have no idea if he did try to come back. I guess that he found his new life very satisfying and just stayed there to live happily with other cherubs. He never contacted me after our last meeting but this is why, after a span of way over eighty years, I want to share with you important other facts that I gleaned from my meetings with baby Michel when I was leaning over his crib.

Because of our lengthy conferences, he made me aware right from my very young age that children with disabilities are really wonderful and remarkable; they are really not all that different from other children as I already mentioned above. They are extremely amazing. That was the word that Angel Michel impressed on me: AMAZING!

Of course during my lifetime, I met many remarkable and amazing people, old and young, grown up as well as children. Some had disabilities, physical or mental, but they all appeared to have learnt to deal with them. Of course some coped with their existence better than others did, but they all appeared to have accepted their lot in life without much complaining.

But of all the angels I met in my life, I never forgot this very first little one, Baby Michel, the one with whom I spent a lot of time in 1935.

This is why I am dedicating the following message to all the children who live with a disability because they really are AMAZING…and I truly feel competent to tell you what all disabled children wish to communicate to you in case you do not at first understand. Here is what they are saying to you…

=====

«…Hey there! Look at me everybody, Hello, Helloooo…you might not realize it yet, but I am an amazing child.

Yes, people say I am a special person, an extraordinary, unusual youngster. Surely you have met other children with disabilities before meeting me today, haven’t you?

It really does not matter how or why my physical distinctions happened, they just did, and that’s life. If I may appear a bit unlike you, even different in appearance from my own family or the people around me, trust me, I am an authentic, genuine, real human being and very much like you.

I can assure everyone around that in many ways and in everyday sort of living, I am also very much like other children.

Looking at my surroundings, I think I am also very lucky to be unlike some others. That’s what makes me unusual, special, extraordinary, and yes, remarkably AMAZING.

Please, don’t pretend you don’t see me, don’t look away, I am not really shy; I am not embarrassed at my appearing to being a bit different, why should you be uncomfortable around me? I am not, I actually feel very sure of myself.

How do I know that inside of my soul I am so much like the other children? Simply because: I AM… I am alive, I am here, and I am telling you my story. I really do not have to prove anything to the world around me.

I do not have to bounce around on skate boards and tricycles, play ball or shout or scream. I don’t even have to write anything down, pronounce any words to communicate with you. Just believe that I am hundred percent here with you right now.

I am communicating with you. Go ahead, look in my eyes, take your time, look intently at my face if you want, smile at me, I am looking at you right now, even if you do not think I am, I am smiling also even if you cannot tell that I am joyful.

Here, look deep in my heart, in my spirit, look deep inside my soul, it is easy, just do it, come on, look at me…you will see my world, one that maybe you are not familiar with. But please, take a good look at it. You will be surprised. It is actually a world with similar traits to yours in many ways. I am happy.

How is it? Let me explain, I can hear, see, smell, taste, touch, feel although you might not think I can. Even if I am in a coma, trust me, I AM HERE WITH YOU!

I have so much more to offer the world around us than you can ever imagine. I have a great deal to put forward that could make your life way better and much happier than it is.

You might have to… sort of...come closer, reach for my soul and get into it. I wish I could convince you but if I am unable to reach inside your heart, just read in mine, read my mind. It’s easy.

If I am unable to give an explanation by sound and words about my life, nor show any signs to you that state I hear every word you say, believe me, I am here, completely!

I do hear you; I can understand every word you say. I welcome everything; I even laugh within myself when you make me happy or something funny happens.

Please don’t ever be sad for me, I don’t like to see you unhappy or see you cry. Just enjoy my life with me, get pleasure from it as I do. I deserve your understanding and your love. I am sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable, do not despair for me because I know I do stand tall.

Please relax, talk to me, can you guess what I am telling you? Maybe I don’t care about your hat or maybe I think those pants are really the wrong size, or maybe that funny joke was not all that amusing, but who really cares.

I think you could treat me more like a grown up but after all, since I am a child, or I look like one to you, never mind, treat me like one if it makes you feel more comfortable.

Oh! And by the way: don’t you believe that a superior power sent me to my family as a cross to bear, a God would not do that, a supernatural being is much too busy with other sacred and religious stuff and had nothing to do with my disability. It happened, Life is funny that way, that’s simple, and it’s just life…IT IS JUST LIFE! it happens...

And, I AM AN AMAZING CHILD!  ”

------------------------

In case readers question if I am allowed to deal with this subject, let me say that my son was quadriplegic and I deal with the abuse of a schizophrenic relative on a daily basis. yes, I do understand.

signed by grandma geny Heywood end of January 2018

If you would like to chat with me, please send me a note via my email, thank you, geny

gheywood2@gmail.com

I am also a columnist working for the Niagara Gazette in Niagara Falls NY and the paper accepts mail for me.

Thank You and have a good outlook on life. geny