Special Education Week - Day 7

We got Reader's Digest delivered monthly along with Soviet Woman. I learnt about first female astronaut Valentina Tereshkova thru Soviet woman magazine  and aspired study space science. My recollection of collectibles was from Soviet Woman. I used to dream as little kid  to own all those lovely looking dolls with their ethnic russian costume.

RD was my "GOOGLE" in those days. I read real-life stories from world, western philosophy and lifestyles. I loved reading RD and I still do. I loved every column especially the inspiring life stories they featured regularly. When you are young you see parents around you setting expectations for their kids. Lot of them pushed their kids and some of them physically abused them. I never used to understand the anger and wrath they cause on their children. I used to hate seeing kids in my neighbourhood thrashed daily in the name of discipline claiming it is for the welfare of the children. I never understood why then and  even now.  Even at that young age I observed the shame in their eyes . They never wanted to look at you or talk to you even when they know you are their best friend. I am thankful for having a parents who never set any expectation for us .  They allowed us to make every choice in our life and never interfered in our academic choices. They neither celebrated our victories nor put us down for failing.  

When I was in high school I read an article about parenting in Readers Digest and  these lines stayed with me forever "As a parents I have no right to judge my kids or get angry at them.  When I think of the all experiences they brought to my life and realise how they enriched my life , I am thankful that I have them as my children in my life."  And every parent with special needs kids has the same view  like the author of the RD article.

When you are calm and quiet you can focus on things around you and observe.  And you will learn to respect people and their feeling well and never offend others with words or actions.  Though failure might come our way, we will be truly loved, cherished and respected by friends and family.  

Everybody is given a  choice to use kind words and inspire people with their goodness. Wecan make a decision to use that kindness more to special needs kids /adults.  The special needs community has only one request - DON'T JUDGE. .  Unkind words and  judgement  might prevent any kids from what they would be in their future.

Last in my special education week series, I present Nick Vujicic. If he is not going to inspire you , I don't think any body will

If you are blessed with kids who can talk to say I love you, run to you when you come home  and  hug you to make you feel their love,  go hug them and say "Thank you"  , thank you for all the  joys they bring to us.

Special Education Week - Day 6

An inspirational story of Dick & Rick Hoyt, the most inspirational father and son team to race in an Ironman. We get inspired by the end result but imagine the hours and years of hard work and dedication of his parents. Parents loving their children with all their heart with unconditional love and believing in purpose of their kid's life on this earth.  We  can all  inspire our children only if we believe in them with unconditional love.

Team Hoyt (source : http://www.teamhoyt.com/)

The Early Years

Rick was born in 1962 to Dick and Judy Hoyt. As a result of oxygen deprivation to Rick's brain at the time of his birth, Rick was diagnosed as a spastic quadriplegic with cerebral palsy. Dick and Judy were advised to institutionalize Rick because there was no chance of him recovering, and little hope for Rick to live a "normal" life. This was just the beginning of Dick and Judy's quest for Rick's inclusion in community, sports, education and one day, the workplace.

Dick and Judy soon realized that though Rick couldn't walk or speak; he was quite astute and his eyes would follow them around the room. They fought to integrate Rick into the public school system, pushing administrators to see beyond Rick's physical limitations. Dick and Judy would take Rick sledding and swimming, and even taught him the alphabet and basic words, like any other child. After providing concrete evidence of Rick's intellect and ability to learn like everyone else, Dick and Judy needed to find a way to help Rick communicate for himself. More...

With $5,000 in 1972 and a skilled group of engineers at Tufts University, an interactive computer was built for Rick. This computer consisted of a cursor being used to highlight every letter of the alphabet. Once the letter Rick wanted was highlighted, he was able to select it by just a simple tap with his head against a head piece attached to his wheelchair. When the computer was originally first brought home, Rick surprised everyone with his first words. Instead of saying, "Hi, Mom," or "Hi, Dad," Rick's first "spoken" words were: "Go, Bruins!" The Boston Bruins were in the Stanley Cup finals that season. It was clear from that moment on, that Rick loved sports and followed the game just like anyone else.

In 1975, at the age of 13, Rick was finally admitted into public school. After high school, Rick attended Boston University, and he graduated with a degree in Special Education in 1993. Dick retired in 1995 as a Lt. Colonel from the Air National Guard, after serving his country for 37 years.

The Beginning of Team Hoyt

In the spring of 1977, Rick told his father that he wanted to participate in a 5-mile benefit run for a Lacrosse player who had been paralyzed in an accident. Far from being a long-distance runner, Dick agreed to push Rick in his wheelchair and they finished all 5 miles, coming in next to last. That night, Rick told his father, "Dad, when I'm running, it feels like I'm not handicapped."

This realization was just the beginning of what would become over 1,000 races completed, including marathons, duathlons and triathlons (6 of them being Ironman competitions). Also adding to their list of achievements, Dick and Rick biked and ran across the U.S. in 1992, completing a full 3,735 miles in 45 days. More...

In a triathlon, Dick will pull Rick in a boat with a bungee cord attached to a vest around his waist and to the front of the boat for the swimming stage. For the biking stage, Rick will ride a special two-seater bicycle, and then Dick will push Rick in his custom made running chair (for the running stage).

Rick was once asked, if he could give his father one thing, what would it be? Rick responded, "The thing I'd most like is for my dad to sit in the chair and I would push him for once."

The 2009 Boston Marathon was officially Team Hoyt's 1000th race. Rick always says if it comes down to doing one race a year he would like it to be the Boston Marathon: his favorite race. Dick Hoyt hopes that he is able to push Rick in the Boston Marathon when he is 70 years old (2011)! Neither Dick or Rick are ready to retire yet.

Watch this inspirational Video

Special Education Week - Day 5

Another inspirational story about professor Stephen Hawking who has ALS.  Lot of ignorant people might have judged him as a little boy not able to play ball or do any physical activities because he looked normal. Yet he believed in himself. The keyword to his success is believe in yourself.  To all my readers who are going through some tough phase in your life  and people voluntarily or involuntarily making you feel depressed or putting you down with their ignorant, uneducated judgement  , please believe in yourself. Every  good deed is achievable only if you believe in yourself.

Professor Stephen Hawking (Source: http://www.hawking.org.uk/index.php/about-stephen).

I am quite often asked: How do you feel about having ALS? The answer is, not a lot. I try to lead as normal a life as possible, and not think about my condition, or regret the things it prevents me from doing, which are not that many.

It was a great shock to me to discover that I had motor neurone disease. I had never been very well co-ordinated physically as a child. I was not good at ball games, and my handwriting was the despair of my teachers. Maybe for this reason, I didn't care much for sport or physical activities. But things seemed to change when I went to Oxford, at the age of 17. I took up coxing and rowing. I was not Boat Race standard, but I got by at the level of inter-College competition.

In my third year at Oxford, however, I noticed that I seemed to be getting more clumsy, and I fell over once or twice for no apparent reason. But it was not until I was at Cambridge, in the following year, that my father noticed, and took me to the family doctor. He referred me to a specialist, and shortly after my 21st birthday, I went into hospital for tests. I was in for two weeks, during which I had a wide variety of tests. They took a muscle sample from my arm, stuck electrodes into me, and injected some radio opaque fluid into my spine, and watched it going up and down with x-rays, as they tilted the bed. After all that, they didn't tell me what I had, except that it was not multiple sclerosis, and that I was an a-typical case. I gathered, however, that they expected it to continue to get worse, and that there was nothing they could do, except give me vitamins. I could see that they didn't expect them to have much effect. I didn't feel like asking for more details, because they were obviously bad.

The realisation that I had an incurable disease, that was likely to kill me in a few years, was a bit of a shock. How could something like that happen to me? Why should I be cut off like this? However, while I had been in hospital, I had seen a boy I vaguely knew die of leukaemia, in the bed opposite me. It had not been a pretty sight. Clearly there were people who were worse off than me. At least my condition didn't make me feel sick. Whenever I feel inclined to be sorry for myself I remember that boy.

Not knowing what was going to happen to me, or how rapidly the disease would progress, I was at a loose end. The doctors told me to go back to Cambridge and carry on with the research I had just started in general relativity and cosmology. But I was not making much progress, because I didn't have much mathematical background. And, anyway, I might not live long enough to finish my PhD. I felt somewhat of a tragic character. I took to listening to Wagner, but reports in magazine articles that I drank heavily are an exaggeration. The trouble is once one article said it, other articles copied it, because it made a good story. People believe that anything that has appeared in print so many times must be true.

My dreams at that time were rather disturbed. Before my condition had been diagnosed, I had been very bored with life. There had not seemed to be anything worth doing. But shortly after I came out of hospital, I dreamt that I was going to be executed. I suddenly realised that there were a lot of worthwhile things I could do if I were reprieved. Another dream, that I had several times, was that I would sacrifice my life to save others. After all, if I were going to die anyway, it might as well do some good. But I didn't die. In fact, although there was a cloud hanging over my future, I found, to my surprise, that I was enjoying life in the present more than before. I began to make progress with my research, and I got engaged to a girl called Jane Wilde, whom I had met just about the time my condition was diagnosed. That engagement changed my life. It gave me something to live for. But it also meant that I had to get a job if we were to get married. I therefore applied for a research fellowship at Gonville and Caius (pronounced Keys) college, Cambridge. To my great surprise, I got a fellowship, and we got married a few months later.

The fellowship at Caius took care of my immediate employment problem. I was lucky to have chosen to work in theoretical physics, because that was one of the few areas in which my condition would not be a serious handicap. And I was fortunate that my scientific reputation increased, at the same time that my disability got worse. This meant that people were prepared to offer me a sequence of positions in which I only had to do research, without having to lecture.

We were also fortunate in housing. When we were married, Jane was still an undergraduate at Westfield College in London, so she had to go up to London during the week. This meant that we had to find somewhere I could manage on my own, and which was central, because I could not walk far. I asked the College if they could help, but was told by the then Bursar: it is College policy not to help Fellows with housing. We therefore put our name down to rent one of a group of new flats that were being built in the market place. (Years later, I discovered that those flats were actually owned by the College, but they didn't tell me that.) However, when we returned to Cambridge from a visit to America after the marriage, we found that the flats were not ready. As a great concession, the Bursar said we could have a room in a hostel for graduate students. He said, "We normally charge 12 shillings and 6 pence a night for this room. However, as there will be two of you in the room, we will charge 25 shillings." We stayed there only three nights. Then we found a small house about 100 yards from my university department. It belonged to another College, who had let it to one of its fellows. However he had moved out to a house he had bought in the suburbs. He sub-let the house to us for the remaining three months of his lease. During those three months, we found that another house in the same road was standing empty. A neighbour summoned the owner from Dorset, and told her that it was a scandal that her house should be empty, when young people were looking for accommodation. So she let the house to us. After we had lived there for a few years, we wanted to buy the house, and do it up. So we asked my College for a mortgage. However, the College did a survey, and decided it was not a good risk. In the end we got a mortgage from a building society, and my parents gave us the money to do it up. We lived there for another four years, but it became too difficult for me to manage the stairs. By this time, the College appreciated me rather more, and there was a different Bursar. They therefore offered us a ground floor flat in a house that they owned. This suited me very well, because it had large rooms and wide doors. It was sufficiently central that I could get to my University department, or the College, in my electric wheel chair. It was also nice for our three children, because it was surrounded by garden, which was looked after by the College gardeners.

Up to 1974, I was able to feed myself, and get in and out of bed. Jane managed to help me, and bring up the children, without outside help. However, things were getting more difficult, so we took to having one of my research students living with us. In return for free accommodation, and a lot of my attention, they helped me get up and go to bed. In 1980, we changed to a system of community and private nurses, who came in for an hour or two in the morning and evening. This lasted until I caught pneumonia in 1985. I had to have a tracheotomy operation. After this, I had to have 24 hour nursing care. This was made possible by grants from several foundations.

Before the operation, my speech had been getting more slurred, so that only a few people who knew me well, could understand me. But at least I could communicate. I wrote scientific papers by dictating to a secretary, and I gave seminars through an interpreter, who repeated my words more clearly. However, the tracheotomy operation removed my ability to speak altogether. For a time, the only way I could communicate was to spell out words letter by letter, by raising my eyebrows when someone pointed to the right letter on a spelling card. It is pretty difficult to carry on a conversation like that, let alone write a scientific paper. However, a computer expert in California, called Walt Woltosz, heard of my plight. He sent me a computer program he had written, called Equalizer. This allowed me to select words from a series of menus on the screen, by pressing a switch in my hand. The program could also be controlled by a switch, operated by head or eye movement. When I have built up what I want to say, I can send it to a speech synthesizer. At first, I just ran the Equalizer program on a desk top computer.

However David Mason, of Cambridge Adaptive Communication, fitted a small portable computer and a speech synthesizer to my wheel chair. This system allowed me to communicate much better than I could before. I can manage up to 15 words a minute. I can either speak what I have written, or save it to disk. I can then print it out, or call it back and speak it sentence by sentence. Using this system, I have written a book, and dozens of scientific papers. I have also given many scientific and popular talks. They have all been well received. I think that is in a large part due to the quality of the speech synthesiser, which is made by Speech Plus. One's voice is very important. If you have a slurred voice, people are likely to treat you as mentally deficient: Does he take sugar? This synthesiser is by far the best I have heard, because it varies the intonation, and doesn't speak like a Dalek. The only trouble is that it gives me an American accent.

I have had motor neurone disease for practically all my adult life. Yet it has not prevented me from having a very attractive family, and being successful in my work. This is thanks to the help I have received from Jane, my children, and a large number of other people and organisations. I have been lucky, that my condition has progressed more slowly than is often the case. But it shows that one need not lose hope.



 Sourece : http://www.hawking.org.uk/index.php/disability

Special Education Week - Day 3

I had very tough day last september dealing with NR with high fever and he was not willing to eat or drink fluids. I was so tired, sad and scary and went into little depressed mode thinking about the all challenges ahead of us. I switched on the TV, when NR took his afternoon nap and this programs comes in discovery channel.  Parents with unconditional love . It was such an inspirational story , I was so determined not to lose focus and never to lose my positive attitude not even for a minute.  When these parents can do an amazing job , our challenges with NR are nothing compared to this little amazing girl.  I always believed that god gives me experiences in life which I can handle .  You can watch the video here

Local Family Has Daughter Born Without a Face

Tom holds his daughter, Juliana

Tammy

Juliana is missing 30-40% of the bones in her face.

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By Jeannie Blaylock, First Coast News

JACKSONVILLE, FL -- When most parents have a baby, they spend months dreaming about what their bundle of joy will look like. Will she look like mom? Will he have dad's eyes? But for one local Navy family, the birth of their daughter didn't give them the answers to those questions. Their daughter was born without a face.

When Tammy was pregnant, she knew something was wrong. At worst, they thought maybe their baby had a cleft lip. So Tammy and her husband Tom went to the hospital happy until the birth.

"The nurse is like, 'We got her stable, we need to rush her upstairs,'" explains Tom, as he recalls every minute of that day. "And the nurse asked, 'Do you want your wife to see her now?'"

Tom says he thought to himself, "Before she gets the shock I did, let me take a picture so she's prepared."

Tammy hadn't seen her new baby yet, because she almost bled to death during delivery. Tammy would be okay, meanwhile, dad went to take pictures of his new daughter. But no matter what, these new parents had a wish.

"That if there was something wrong, she wouldn't be alone. We wanted to make sure she felt loved," said Tom, as he began to cry. "She squeezed my hand."

Little Juliana is missing 30 - 40 percent of the bones in her face. "She has no upper jaw, no cheek bones, no eye sockets, and she's missing the corner of her ear," explains Tom. Her birth defect is called Treacher Collins Syndrome.

Doctors say it's the worst case they've ever seen. So, how do you get people to see past all the defects, and find her heart? For mom, it just hurts.

"I just wish people would ask questions. Don't just stare," says Tammy. "I guess the most hurtful thing came not long ago, a little girl said she was disgusting."

Juliana has to eat through her stomach, and she has a trach to breathe. Already, less than two years into her life, she's had 14 surgeries. Doctors say she could need at least 30 more. Every time she goes to the hospital, doctors make a mold of her head, and then reconstruct her skull to figure out the next step. It's a life-long process that's draining for Tammy and Tom. Even still, they're thankful and full of love for their sweet child.

"God never gives you more than you can handle. I figure she has a lot to show everyone... to show the world," says Tom.

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Special Education week - Day 2

My friend posted this story on FB this monday.  Hardwork and determination from Naga naresh ,some good encouragement from parents and peers and kindness and generosity from the society are key elements in this success story.

The following articles is from http://www.funenclave.com/motivational-zone/naga-naresh-karutura-fighter-banks-godavari-20773.html

Naga Naresh Karutura : A fighter from the banks of Godavari to Google

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Naga Naresh Karutura has just passed out of IIT Madras in Computer Science and has joined Google in Bangalore. You may ask, what's so special about this 21-year-old when there are hundreds of students passing out from various IITs and joining big companies like Google?

Read why Naresh is special and what makes him feel that he is lucky.

Ever smiling, optimistic and full of spirit; that is Naresh. He says, "God has always been planning things for me. That is why I feel I am lucky."

Childhood in a village
I spent the first seven years of my life in Teeparru, a small village in Andhra Pradesh, on the banks of the river Godavari. My father Prasad was a lorry driver and my mother Kumari, a house wife. Though they were illiterate, my parents instilled in me and my elder sister (Sirisha) the importance of studying.

Looking back, one thing that surprises me now is the way my father taught me when I was in the 1st and 2nd standards. My father would ask me questions from the text book, and I would answer them. At that time, I didn't know he could not read or write but to make me happy, he helped me in my studies! Another memory that doesn't go away is the floods in the village and how I was carried on top of a buffalo by my uncle. I also remember plucking fruits from a tree that was full of thorns.

I used to be very naughty, running around and playing all the time with my friends. I used to get a lot of scolding for disturbing the elders who slept in the afternoon. The moment they started scolding, I would run away to the fields! I also remember finishing my school work fast in class and sleeping on the teacher's lap!

January 11, 1993, the fateful day
On the January 11, 1993 when we had the sankranti holidays, my mother took my sister and me to a nearby village for a family function. From there we were to go with our grandmother to our native place. But my grandmother did not come there. As there were no buses that day, my mother took a lift in my father's friend's lorry. As there were many people in the lorry, he made me sit next to him, close to the door.

It was my fault; I fiddled with the door latch and it opened wide throwing me out. As I fell, my legs got cut by the iron rods protruding from the lorry. Nothing happened to me except scratches on my legs. The accident had happened just in front of a big private hospital but they refused to treat me saying it was an accident case. Then a police constable who was passing by took us to a government hospital.

First I underwent an operation as my small intestine got twisted. The doctors also bandaged my legs. I was there for a week. When the doctors found that gangrene had developed and it had reached up to my knees, they asked my father to take me to a district hospital. There, the doctors scolded my parents a lot for neglecting the wounds and allowing the gangrene to develop. But what could my ignorant parents do?

In no time, both my legs were amputated up to the hips. I remember waking up and asking my mother, where are my legs? I also remember that my mother cried when I asked the question. I was in the hospital for three months.

Life without legs
I don't think my life changed dramatically after I lost both my legs. Because all at home were doting on me, I was enjoying all the attention rather than pitying myself. I was happy that I got a lot of fruits and biscuits.

The day I reached my village, my house was flooded with curious people; all of them wanted to know how a boy without legs looked. But I was not bothered; I was happy to see so many of them coming to see me, especially my friends! All my friends saw to it that I was part of all the games they played; they carried me everywhere.

God's hand
I believe in God. I believe in destiny. I feel he plans everything for you. If not for the accident, we would not have moved from the village to Tanuku, a town. There I joined a missionary school, and my father built a house next to the school. Till the tenth standard, I studied in that school.

If I had continued in Teeparu, I may not have studied after the 10th. I may have started working as a farmer or someone like that after my studies. I am sure God had other plans for me.

My sister, my friend
When the school was about to reopen, my parents moved from Teeparu to Tanuku, a town, and admitted both of us in a Missionary school. They decided to put my sister also in the same class though she is two years older. They thought she could take care of me if both of us were in the same class. My sister never complained.

She would be there for everything. Many of my friends used to tell me, you are so lucky to have such a loving sister. There are many who do not care for their siblings. She carried me in the school for a few years and after a while, my friends took over the task. When I got the tricycle, my sister used to push me around in the school.

My life, I would say, was normal, as everyone treated me like a normal kid. I never wallowed in self-pity. I was a happy boy and competed with others to be on top and the others also looked at me as a competitor.

Inspiration
I was inspired by two people when in school; my Maths teacher Pramod Lal who encouraged me to participate in various local talent tests, and a brilliant boy called Chowdhary, who was my senior.

When I came to know that he had joined Gowtham Junior College to prepare for IIT-JEE, it became my dream too. I was school first in 10th scoring 542/600. Because I topped in the state exams, Gowtham Junior College waived the fee for me. Pramod Sir's recommendation also helped. The fee was around Rs 50,000 per year, which my parents could never afford.

Moving to a residential school
Living in a residential school was a big change for me because till then my life centred around home and school and I had my parents and sister to take care of all my needs. It was the first time that I was interacting with society. It took one year for me to adjust to the new life.

There, my inspiration was a boy called K K S Bhaskar who was in the top 10 in IIT-JEE exams. He used to come to our school to encourage us. Though my parents didn't know anything about Gowtham Junior School or IIT, they always saw to it that I was encouraged in whatever I wanted to do. If the results were good, they would praise me to the skies and if bad, they would try to see something good in that. They did not want me to feel bad.

They are such wonderful supportive parents.

Life at IIT- Madras
Though my overall rank in the IIT-JEE was not that great (992), I was 4th in the physically handicapped category. So, I joined IIT, Madras to study Computer Science.

Here, my role model was Karthik who was also my senior in school. I looked up to him during my years at IIT- Madras. He had asked for attached bathrooms for those with special needs before I came here itself. So, when I came here, the room had attached bath. He used to help me and guide me a lot when I was here.

I evolved as a person in these four years, both academically and personally. It has been a great experience studying here. The people I was interacting with were so brilliant that I felt privileged to sit along with them in the class. Just by speaking to my lab mates, I gained a lot.

Words are inadequate to express my gratitude to Prof Pandurangan and all my lab mates; all were simply great. I was sent to Boston along with four others for our internship by Prof Pandurangan. It was a great experience.

Joining Google R&D
I did not want to pursue PhD as I wanted my parents to take rest now.
Morgan Stanley selected me first but I preferred Google because I wanted to work in pure computer science, algorithms and game theory.

I am lucky
Do you know why I say I am lucky?

I get help from total strangers without me asking for it. Once after my second year at IIT, I with some of my friends was travelling in a train for a conference. We met a kind gentleman called Sundar in the train, and he has been taking care of my hostel fees from then on.

I have to mention about Jaipur foot. I had Jaipur foot when I was in 3rd standard. After two years, I stopped using them. As I had almost no stems on my legs, it was very tough to tie them to the body. I found walking with Jaipur foot very, very slow. Sitting also was a problem. I found my tricycle faster because I am one guy who wants to do things faster.

One great thing about the hospital is, they don't think their role ends by just fixing the Jaipur foot; they arrange for livelihood for all. They asked me what help I needed from them. I told them at that time, if I got into an IIT, I needed financial help from them. So, from the day I joined IIT, Madras, my fees were taken care of by them. So, my education at the IIT was never a burden on my parents and they could take care of my sister's Nursing studies.

Surprise awaited me at IIT
After my first year, when I went home, two things happened here at the Institute without my knowledge.

I got a letter from my department that they had arranged a lift and ramps at the department for me. It also said that if I came a bit early and checked whether it met with my requirements, it would be good.

Second surprise was, the Dean, Prof Idichandy and the Students General Secretary, Prasad had located a place that sold powered wheel chairs. The cost was Rs 55,000. What they did was, they did not buy the wheel chair; they gave me the money so that the wheel chair belonged to me and not the institute.

My life changed after that. I felt free and independent. That's why I say I am lucky. God has planned things for me and takes care of me at every step.

The world is full of good people
I also feel if you are motivated and show some initiative, people around you will always help you. I also feel there are more good people in society than bad ones. I want all those who read this to feel that if Naresh can achieve something in life, you can too.

Special Education week - Day 1

This week is special Education week . And I wanted to share some of the inspirational stories I have read in the past.  At time we need to fail to realise the gifts we have in our life. And every failure comes to us to make us humble. Here is the story which I read thru email forward many years back . 

God's Perfection: The Story of a Special Needs Child

I want to give a brief introduction to the following story.This story comes from the Orthodox Jewish community in Brooklyn, New York. It is interesting that although I first heard this story almost a decade ago and haven't thought about it for several years, this story was sent to me last week by two different people, one from New Jersey and one from Florida. I have decided to share this story with you.This story was first told at a funding raising dinner for Chush, a special needs school in New York, catering to the Orthodox Jewish community. One of the speakers at that dinner was the father of Shaya, a learning disabled boy about whom this story revolves.

The father started his speech like so many others, praising the school and the dedication of the staff. But then he went off on a tangent in a way that touched the lives of everyone in that room.

"We know that God is perfect. We all believe this. But I ask you, look at my son. He can't learn like other children. He can't remember facts like other children. He will never understand things that they can understand. Look at my son and tell me, where is God's perfection?"

The shocked audience sat silent, facing the pain of a father in anguish.

"I believe," the father continued softly, "that when God brings a child like my son into the world, the perfection that He seeks is in not what the child might do, but the way people react to this child."

The father then told this story about his son, Shaya.

One Sunday afternoon, he and his son were walking by a park where the Orthodox Jewish boys in the neighborhood were playing baseball.

"Do you think they would let me play?" Shaya asked.

Shaya's father knew that his son didn't know how to play baseball. His son couldn't play baseball. But he also knows that these boys have always been kind to Shaya. If he as Shaya's father didn't speak up for his son, who would?

So he walked over to one of the boys and asked, "What do you think about letting Shaya in the game?"

The boy didn't know what to say. He looked around to his teammates for guidance. He didn't get any.

Finally the boy answered, "Well, we're about to start the 8th inning, and we're losing by six runs. I don't think we're going to win this game, so what's the difference? We'll get him a glove and he can play on our team behind second base. We'll let him bat in the ninth inning."

Shaya's face beamed. His father helped him put on the baseball glove and Shaya joined his team, playing short center field.

But things began to change. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored three runs. They again rallied in the ninth inning. Now in the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team had bases loaded with two outs. It was Shaya's turn at bat.

They will never let him bat, thought the father. But without hesitation, one of the boys shouted, "Shaya, you're up!" and he handed Shaya the bat.

Shaya had never held a bat before. Shaya walked to the plate. The pitcher moved in a few steps and lobbed the ball so Shaya could make contact. Shaya swung the bat clumsily and missed the ball by a wide margin.

"Hold on," said one of the boys. "Let me help him. Let me show him how to bat."

This boy came and stood behind Shaya, and put his arms around him so together they were holding the bat.

The pitcher moved in a couple more feet and lobbed the ball as softly as he could.

The two boys swung the bat together and managed to make contact with the ball, tapping it gently toward the pitcher.

"Run, Shaya, run to first!" shouted Shaya's teammates.

Run to first? Shaya run to first!? Shaya had never run to first in his life. But Shaya began running to first.

Shaya was not even half way to first base when the ball reached the pitcher's feet. The game was all but over. The pitcher picked up the ball. He now had a choice. He could throw Shaya out at first and end the game that way or he could easily outrun Shaya and tag him out. However, the pitcher decided to end the game in a different way.

He took the ball and with all his might threw it as far as he could over the first baseman's head far into right field.

"Run, Shaya, run," the pitcher shouted.

The right fielder was still chasing after the ball when Shaya reached first.

"Shaya, run to second!" his teammates shouted.

Shaya began to run to second, some of his teammates running with him. The other three base runners had already scored. Now the game was tied.

Shaya was only a quarter of the way to second base when the right fielder had the ball. Instead of throwing the ball to second to tag Shaya out, the right fielder took the ball and threw it way over the third baseman's head and out of the park.

When Shaya reached second, the opposing shortstop ran up to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third!"

Shaya began to run to third and his entire team came onto the field and was running with him. Shaya reached third base.

Now all eighteen boys were running behind Shaya.

"Shaya, run home! Shaya, run home!" everyone shouted.

Shaya stepped on home plate to the cheers of eighteen boys. They picked him up and carried him on their shoulders. He had hit a home run.

Shaya, the special needs boy who had never played baseball before, was the hero of the game.

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

None of us know why we were put on this Earth. Many teach that part of our job is to try to emulate our Creator's perfection. Many of us have difficultly with our children. Some of these children have ADHD. Some of them have other problems. However, our children and we have a purpose why we were created. Most of us will probably never really know what that purpose is.

Still, I wanted to share this true story with you that took place about ten years ago: The story of eighteen boys who for a few brief moments one Sunday afternoon, at a playground in Brooklyn, were able to give us a glimpse of God's perfection.

Source :http://adhd-add.blogspot.com/2005/01/gods-perfection-story-of-special-needs.html

Special Education Week - Day 4

I watched this little boy Mattie on Oprah's show many years back . He wrote such beautiful poetry  and his collection of  poetry called Heart Songs .  It was heartwarming to see such wisdom from a young boy. I wish the world is filled with such precious soul like Mattie

Here is excerpts from his Book "Hope thru heart songs"

FOR OUR WORLD
We need to stop.
Just stop.
Stop for a moment.
Before anybody
Says or does anything
That may hurt anyone else.
We need to be silent.
Just silent.
Silent for a moment.
Before we forever lose
The blessing of songs
That grow in our hearts.
We need to notice.
Just notice.
Notice for a moment.
Before the future slips away
Into ashes and dust of humility.
Stop, be silent, and notice.
In so many ways, we are the same.
Our differences are unique treasures.
We have, we are, a mosaic of gifts
To nurture, to offer, to accept.
We need to be.
Just be.
Be for a moment.
Kind and gentle, innocent and trusting,
Like children and lambs,
Never judging or vengeful
Like the judging and vengeful.
And now, let us pray,
Differently, yet together,
Before there is no earth, no life,
No chance for peace.

 September 11, 2001
© Matthew Joseph Thaddeus Stepanek

Source : http://www.mattieonline.com/

Bed time routine

 My little fellow loves music – music that is soft and soothing . He loves Carnatic music(thanks to amma) and I feel he has a good taste (just seeing his liking for certain songs and musicians).

My maternal family members say NR  looks like my appupa(maternal grandfather) and loves Carnatic music just like him. I sing “Omana thingal Kidavoo” (famous Malayalam lullaby) and Harivarasnam to NR everyday before his bed or nap time since his birth. Just these two songs soothe him well when he cries . My family recommended“Vatsalyam” CD by Bombay Jayashree   when he was born .He loves every song from that CD.

 We have this daily bed time routine at our home every night. After dinner, we spread NR’s favorite “Cars” blanket in our family room and sleep together for half an hour,  listening to vatsalyam CD . If  I am busy doing some chores upstairs, he will wait near the staircase waiting for me .  He runs around and goes near the CD player waiting for the new song to begin and runs back to the blanket to sleep between us. I have a good collection of  Bombay Jayashree CD's at home, so we listen to her songs throughout the day. He likes her voice and listens to all traditional Carnatic renditions by Jayashree.

Every year Bombay Jayashree and other famous Carnatic singers performs for Portland Carnatic music associations . I am a regular for all the carnatic concerts. Last June we had Jayashree’s concert and it was a pure bliss for three hours. She entertains the audience with variety of ragas and good choice of tamil and telugu keerthanams unlike others. I was able to speak to her last time and told her that she has an ardent two-year old fan at home. I couldn’t wait for NR to grow up and give me company during those music concerts.  I couldn’t wait for him to start speaking to share his feelings about the music he loves and enjoys with me. I am waiting, hoping and praying for that moment.

My best discoveries for year 2010

Embar Kannan – I discovered this young talented artist when I attended Unni Krishnan’s carnatic concert last summer in Portland. I loved his rendition and enjoyed every minute of it.

 His violin guru is smt. Kanyakumari. Kanyamukari aunty played violin for  my periyammas Nagercoil sisters Leela and Saroja before she was well known.

Emila Yousuf: I found the Malaysian illustrator Emila Yusof’s blog last year. I love her illustration. It transports me to my childhood memories and the books I had in my collection as a kid. I ordered few of her prints from her original illustration and she was kind enough to send me few more free goodies. For the first time I entered for a giveaway on her site and won it too.  

I am still fond of my childhood story books mostly in Tamil . I remember a couple of titles like Pappu paravaikalai peedipathillai en?(why isn’t pappu catching the birds? Pappu name of the cat), Masha en uranga villai (why isn’t masha sleeping?). I vividly remember all the illustrations from those two books .Emila’s drawing takes me to that time.

My mom forced me to donate entire collection of my story books including all my Muthu comics to “Nehru Bal Bhavan” when I was in 5^th or 6^th grade.  I was sad, annoyed and bit angry with my mom. Our city's Bal Bhavan location was so remote. It was located on the top floor of the stadium in my town which was not accessible by bus in those days. Only government functions and inter state sports meet were held in that stadium.

On our  trip back home  in an auto, I  questioned my mother if kids would go there to read my books. My mother tried to convince me it will be really used by kids and they would be thankful to us. But till date I doubt if any kids really used/read my precious books. I bought around ten titles from my childhood book collection in 1999 for my niece.

Harpsichord: I discovered this music instrument Harpsichord .  My fav TV station OPB’s Art Beat program featured the local artist Byron Wil who makes Harpsichord here in Oregon. You can check out his website for more info on harpsichord. I envy such talented artists, who makes a living doing the things that they love.

I was familiar with few western classical composers like Beethoven and Mozart when I was in India.  My curiosity led to the discovery of lot of new composers (new for me) and my favorite one is  Johann Sebastian Bach.  And thanks to our local western classical radio station 89.9 KBPS , I was able to listen to many composition of Johann Sebastian Bach. Before the MP3 era, this was my constant source of music at work.  If you are western classical fan, they are available 7/24 on the internet. Check it out.

My interest in western classical led me to Andre Rieu , the best entertainer ever. Oh, I love his music. His orchestra, Johann Strauss Orchestra plays in Portland during holidays season .

I watched this video in 2005. This little maestro is a blessed soul to play along with Andre Rieu. Can you believe Akim Camara  is just a three-year old baby during this performance? . NR’s first  concert was Andre Rieu’s . I was 12 weeks pregnant with NR. I am secretly hoping , wishing and praying that NR will choose music as his profession.

God sends every kid with skills needed for their survival.  It's up to the parents to nurture it , admire it and respect it without worrying about other's POV. And when the kids put their mind to it they will shine and nothing can stop them. And this little guy is just an inspiration for my thoughts and beliefs. Check out his amazing performance of  Dances of the Fairies.

Andre Rieu’s orchestra presents classical music in more lively form. You will come back feeling rejuvenated after his concert. We were planning to attend his concert in Europe especially at Schönbrunn Palace.  Life changed, I got pregnant and with that came all the responsibilities, concerns and worries of motherhood. I hope god will grant my wish of attending his concert as a family with NR.

Lastly, I had a friendly office mate (we shared office) Johnny (tech writer)who shared the same interest in classical music like mine. He would play music in his computer,  so we both can hear it. Those are the good old days of working, enjoying and getting fat pay check by the end of the month. A part of me definitely misses the days of happy work life.

New year 2011

Our church didn’t have 6.00pm service on  NYE . They had New year's day service at 11.00am which will interfere with my lunch preparation for New year's day.  So we went to our neighborhood church for 5.00pm service on NYE.I am following the tradition of cooking lunch for my family on  New year's day just like my mother.  

It was very cold but we didn’t have any rain. The crowd was full of old people and we didn’t see our desi friends who are regulars in that church.

We were invited for a New year eve dinner at a  friend's house. We went to her house after church. NR had a good time there and we came back home after midnight. We had freezing winds that night and we were glad that our friend lived just ten minutes from our home.

[caption id="attachment_1217" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="NR doing a happy dance"][/caption]

On New year's day,  I made a shivrathri vegetarian lunch(again) thanks to CB. Evening we went to a nearby temple . We had good darshan and felt blessed to attend prodosham puja. Thanks to IPAD NR was quiet and happy in over-crowded temple.

I’m glad 2010 is over. We are starting this year with hope and prayers for my little son.  My word for 2011 is NR . We have made a pact as parents to do everything and beyond our capacity for the welfare our son.  Hope 2011 gives us strength and all my prayers and our wishes for NR be granted.

[caption id="attachment_1218" align="aligncenter" width="210" caption="Professional shoot at our home when NR was six weeks old"][/caption]

Year-round Santa sends more books

NR loves books. Well, he is crazy about books. He would glance thru his books throughout the day. Currently he is in the “bend and break the book” phase. His father spoils him like anything and NR has damaged couple of his books. I warn him when I see damaged books but he is unstoppable. These days, I give his books only when I am around.

NR entertains himself by glancing thru the books for hours or playing with his toys or just listening to music I play on the CD when I make our daily meals. I would go in between to read him a book or to play with him. He hates to see me rush back to the kitchen to finish the cooking.  

 I felt he was ready for Tamil language books when he was around two years. I’d asked my sister to get my favorite childhood Tamil books from Chennai . She was not able to find the shop. But she sent loads of books  thru my brother when he visited us for NR’s second birthday.

                            

And for Christmas my sister had sent couple of more books and dresses for NR, me and CB.  He received books from his favorite “Pepper” series. Thanks to his year-round Santa aka Chitha , he has a decent collection of  Tamil and English books(Indian Edition). I've been reading tamil books regularly which he fancies and kept other books out of his reach. His favorite tamil books are

1. Aa Vilurundu akku varai 


2. Suvatril Nadanam (NR loves shirvi)


3. who am I


4. Engey antha poonai


5. Para para patti Erumbu


6. Thakita tharikita kuthikum bandhu


7. Pepper goes to school


8. Pepper brushes his teeth


9. Bruno learns to share 

NR gives his favorite tamil books to CB, to read . CB is not comfortable reading tamil . He is forced to read tamil books by NR. From our Kitchen, I would listen to him read tamil like a first grader making so many mistakes at each line. It frustrated me and made me really annoyed angry.  It was ackward to listen to a grown up reading his own language like a kid.  But I kept quiet,  since I don't want to spoil NR's happy time.  And it was around that time, CB complained about the spelling/grammar mistakes in my blog.  Since he was reading my blog, I wrote this post. 

He loves the illustrations from the "My mother’s Garden". This book is written  by my new favorite  illustrator . He cries a bit wanting to see the pictures in the book by himself but I refused to give him. In my absence his dad gives him that book. CB doesn't even feel bit guilty about breaking the boundaries I’d set for NR.

Appa brings loads of books from library everyday mostly Diego , Dora and other popular children series books. Being a book-a-holic, CB visits Barnes Noble, Borders almost everyday (before NR he lived there) and his office is located to closer to one of Portland biggest book shop Powells. CB buys beautiful books for NR regularly.

Papa and son regularly visits the bookshop on summer days followed by a an hours walk and play in our community play ground. We have a yearly pass to our local zoo so papa and son used to go at least twice or thrice a week visiting his favorite animals and having a cool choo choo ride.

It’s challenging to entertain NR during winter since he gets sick so often when he goes out in the cold weather. But still his dad takes him to the nearest play gym, his favorite pet store and to book shops. And at home NR gets limited time on TV and computer.

2010 Christmas

CB had a day off on christmas eve. So I went for last-minute gift shopping and came home around 4.00pm only to find that we will be going for 6.00pm service instead of 9.00pm.  My chores started at noon on friday and ended next day night. I worked non stop and I am definitely feeling old . Gone are those days where I usually cooked at least 16 items for 30 people for christmas party.

We went for 6.00pm service and the weather was better than last year. NR was quiet for ten minutes but cried when the choir started singing. Our church has the best acoustics and it was really loud at times even for us. We had minimal and safer holiday decorations at home this year and we will be following this rule for at least next three or 4 years.

I miss the Christmas day celebration at my mother in laws house.  She would wake up early and prepare dishes for breakfast while we sleep happily in our room. The kitchen would be packed with servants helping my MIL and full of action. In India, we usually go for night mass for Christmas and for early morning mass on New Year's day  . Last year when we went with NR we went for morning mass. After church service, we will have a nice south Indian tiffin spread for breakfast . My MIL will then start preparing lunch  items like chicken briyani, chicken kurma, thalcha, vada, potato curry , chilli chicken or fish fry. She makes her trademark sweet beet jam/chutney. She also painstakingly prepare Kara Murukku, sweet murukku, cake, my husband favorite Nei (pasiparuppu) urundai  and couple of other sweets . Loads of people will drop in and she will distribute sweets to every body.

This year, I made a simple south Indian vegetarian lunch (Hindu festival menu) for us. We invited our friend’s family who happened to be vegetarians  for dinner. So I made pongal, vada , sambar, chutney, poori and potato masala and  Pal payasam.  We exchanged gifts after dinner.  BTW after coming to US, I came to know thru a good church friend that lot of Saiva pillai's (mostly from Tirunelveli district) who embraced catholic faith  two or three generation back ,still follow a strict vegetarian diet .  

NR  absolute favorite gifts this year are his Trike that we gave him and leaptop that he received along with other gifts from my bff  "S" from Virginia. We have been friends since 4th grade .

2010 Thanksgiving

I bought a puppy costume for NR . When I tried it , he felt miserable and cried till I removed the dress. Last year’s monkey costume came in handy. Monkey was happy with the costume.

This thanksgiving was cold  and damp yet most of the two year old girls wore fairy/princess (thin) costume without any sweaters or coat. The parents  wanted their tiny kids to look fancy without thinking about their health. I have no idea how the little ones tolerated the cold. My son would be shivering like a mouse out of a tea-cup,  if he is not bundled up.

NR marathon fever episode started after couple of days.

Photo memory

This photo was taken twenty years back, a couple of days after my undergrad final exam..  When I look at this photo

• 
  
   I remember our Distemper Green Formica sofa which was made by my family carpenter when I was in fourth grade. My parents still have this sofa in our living room.


• I remember the Blind school near my home. The wire weaving in the sofa would go bad every couple of years and the students in the blind school would weave a new one. They were trained specifically for this trade.


• I also remember my favorite lotus pink with light blue marbled effect design Formica dining table. Formica was the latest trend in those days. I love having my lunch in our dining table during my visits back home. This dining table is older than me.


• I remember my father’s love for wood and every thing old. My father used to buy wood so often and part of my house was always loaded with wood planks mainly teak wood. Every wooden furniture and household items like chapatti roller and base, wooden spoons and ladle were hand made out of teakwood. Every window in my house is made of teak. My father is a teakholic.


• I remember “Mani “ Asari (carpenter) and we fondly called him “Mani mama(uncle). The first childless couple I knew as a child. I saw how society made them feel. Later on they adopted a girl from their extended family. He made all the furniture in our house. Every piece is well-made and strong.  None of the furniture went to repair shop not even once in the last 44 years since he made the first set of chairs for my parent’s first home.


• I remember how sad I was to say goodbye to my best friend "S" , She  stayed with us for few days after our final exams , before leaving for her house in Ranchi. After 18 years I was able to find her.


• I remember my mixed feeling about leaving the official quarters allotted to my dad within a month of taking this photo. We had neighbors from all backgrounds, religion and caste who were very friendly with each other. My life in that neighborhood made me feel humble and thankful for all the good things in my life. And I/we made life long friends there.


• I was nineteen years old ( I turned twenty , two months after I finished my final UG exam).


• I remember having a great figure and tiny hip. Sigh! Look at the picture ,I’m almost invisible.

I will be happy to inherit the furniture from my parents someday.  And I never realized that this day will come, where I will be reminiscing about the mundane stuff from my past but never realized the worth of it while using it .