I have always considered myself very fortunate to have been born into my family. My special family. Though being the youngest of seven was never easy, I always managed to somehow pull through. And though my siblings and I have a pretty large age gap, we still remain very close. Most of my siblings are at least ten years older than me, except for one sister who is only a year ahead of me.
One year of age difference seems a lot to the average girl. Your sister can graduate a year earlier than you, can get her licence a year before you can, and is welcome to buying cigarettes a year before you can. Not my sister - we do everything together. We are like twins: never separated, and never apart. My sister and I are very close, and very similar in some ways. Yet, though we have many similarities, she has one thing that I don't have. She has an extra chromosome.
Yup, you guessed it, she has Down Syndrome. We're both in the same grade because she was held back, and sometimes, people confuse me for being the older sibling. Sarah, my sister, is 18 but looks and acts as if she is no more than 10 years old. Because of Sarah, my family had to do things a little differently than the average family. All those family outings that were experienced in the previous years had come to an abrupt halt. I wasn't old enough to understand anything, and why those things happened, so I just thought that all families were like that.
One thing I was able to understand, or rather not understand, was the fact that Sarah couldn't go to school with me. My siblings and I grew up going to a private school, so why couldn't Sarah come too? Sarah had to go to a special school, where there were special teachers, and special classrooms. I just couldn't understand the meaning of special. Was it good or bad? Neither, it was just special. Gosh, I do remember growing up hating that word.
I was very lucky to be blessed with such strong and understanding parents. They fought hard for a long time and finally fulfilled one of their dreams: Sarah could go to school. No, not that special school, but my school! My mother and father created an organization that allows special needs children to go to a school in which they chose, and this organization would hire and pay instructional aids to serve the needs of their child. I remember the rush of the strange feeling that crept inside of me. Sarah's really 'gonna go to school with me?! I was excited and nervous at the same time. I wondered how my classmates would treat her; would they except her with open arms, or will they turn their back on her?
I finally sighed of relief when I saw them welcoming her like she was one of us. Sarah grew very attached to her friends and expected to be treated like she was one of them because she was - right? Sarah thought that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her; she was a completely normal child. She was so used to being enrolled in an inclusion program that when she came face - to - face with another disabled child she was the one that stared and asked questions.
My family has been so blessed to have Sarah part of our family. Sarah has taught me so much - I couldn't ask for anything more. Yes I taught her how to walk, recite the ABC's, and unfortunately - how to pinch! Sarah has taught me something that I can carry throughout my lifetime: how to care, how to be kind, and most importantly, how to love.
Most parents pray to have the epitome of "the perfect child." A child that is caring and sharing. A child that is respectful and not mouthy. When Sarah was born - everything changed. Some people call her handicapped, but we call her perfect!
