MOMMY, JESUS IS IN YOUR CLOSET TRYING ON YOUR CLOTHES!"
By Mary Lee Gannon
"Mommy, Jesus is in your closet trying on your clothes."
That's right. That's what my four-year-old daughter told me when I
asked her "Where is Jesus?"
So, maybe another parent might expect their child to say, "heaven". And
perhaps yet another might expect theirs to ask, "Who's Jesus?" But for my
blue-eyed, long curly haired, smile-that-lights-up-your-life child, whom,
like so many, God decided to make a late talker, HEAVEN was a concept just a
little too abstract.
But you know what? Expecting her to say a 10 word sentence a year ago
was a little too far reaching as well..
I have so many friends, now good friends, whose children were late
talkers. But I have learned the most from my friends whose children truly
have serious language difficulties. What I have come to realize is that for
a special child, the gains might be at a different pace, but they can be no
less celebrated -- both for the child, and for the parent. For those gains,
be they: chaining first words, being able to sit in a chair throughout an
entire meal, or being invited to a birthday party that wasn't one to which
the whole class was invited, are no less important than a straight A report
card..
Why?
Because this is the hardest work for such children -- this is their
extra effort, their honor role, their National Merit Scholarship. And we are
nothing more than a mirror of that pride -- a silver plated glass which
reflects either sunshine or grey skies on our children. And in return, our
children shine back what could be the brightest pot of gold this side of the
Emerald Isle -- witnessing the pride in their eyes..
For months my daughter came home from pre-school without being able to
tell me what had happened there. Everyday I would ask, "What did you do at
school today?" And everyday there was no reply. I wasn't sure if she
couldn't remember, if she didn't have the language to tell me, or if she
truly did not understand what I was asking her. And her educators didn't
know either. I tried everything I could to help her with this. We broke
down the question into, "What did you play with today?" since that is more
concrete then "What did you do?". We worked on the time concept of "today".
I went into the school and took photographs of all the children and the play
areas. I made a velcro board at home for her to attach and sequence the
pictures of with whom and what she had played. We worked on answering the
difference between "what" and "who" questions. We worked on past tenses of
verbs so that she could understand "did you play with" as opposed to "do you
play with".
Nothing was working..
Low and behold, one day, when I was sure all of my efforts had been in
vain, when I had reached a ravine lower than any carved by the waters of the
ice age, my daughter stormed in the door from school, threw down her bookbag,
and shouted, "Steven is a mean boy, Mommy. He hit Amie and me at circle
time. Miss Liatrice put him in the time out chair."
If there was ever a Leprechaun in the U.S. of A. he was dancing on a
rooftop on Springhouse Lane that day. And that afternoon a rainbow stretched
from the Blarney Castle, over the Moehrs and across the Atlantic to the pot
of gold in my little girl's soul. That gold shot rays of stardust to my
heart. And the pride in my smile radiated a brilliance that was indeed
contagious because standing before me God had illuminated the most glorious
of Irish eyes I had ever seen. And in the silence between the moment I
studied that beautiful glowing face swelling with self-esteem, and the hug we
shared that would have shamed a boa constrictor, I heard for the first time
angels sing. They may have been singing in Gaelic -- but there is no
mistaking an angel..
So, Jesus, come on over to my house and try on clothes in my closet
anytime. Just don't spill any wine on my church shoes. Gotta lot of thanks
to give on Sundays..
I am a freelance columnist for the Pittsburgh Catholic.
Mary Lee Gannon
135 Springohuse Lane
Pgh., PA 15238
412-963-1436
