© Olga Drozdova | Dreamstime.com
Below are excerpts from a monthly column I wrote in March 2005 in my role as a Junior League president.
“Recently, I have spent time with a lovely nine-year old girl who has been ill since late December. She has been on and off medication her whole life, but this illness is different. Bouts of severe joint pain coupled with fevers and other symptoms have left a team of doctors baffled.
When she first started getting sick, we discussed the possibility that maybe all of this would lead her to her “life work.” Maybe she would become a doctor or a nurse who would work with children.
As my little friend’s illness stretched into weeks of doctor visits and invasive tests, we spoke again about her “life work.” All of the adults spending time with her – teachers, tutors, family friends and doctors – told her that her bravery and kindness inspired and motivated them. She and I discussed that maybe her “life work” had already started. Just being she was enough to change those around her for the better.
When I asked permission to write about her in this column, she simply replied, “Of course, Mommy.” “
This child is now a beautiful sixteen-year old young woman who just happens to have rheumatoid arthritis. She is working on her third degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. To earn her last black belt, she had to break two blocks of cement with her palm. Those are always fun conversations to have with her doctor.
She plays piano beautifully and she is finally wearing Pointe shoes for ballet. Her determination to succeed is something to behold, and now her goal is to be a neuroscientist.
These past few months have been hard. Her body was very well behaved for a few years, but now it is reminding her of her illness with a vengeance. She is a high school junior, and due to the vagaries of our educational system; the university where she will start her “life work” will depend on the success of this year. Rather than make her wobble, her situation makes her even more focused to move forward.
I do not tell you our daughter’s story to elicit pity, but to remind us all that we need to step back and look around us at those whose paths are made narrow by circumstance. We need to view them with awe, as I believe they are often the beacons of light that give the rest of us strength.
This is the time of year when we all look ahead to January, setting our goals and resolutions for the New Year; ones that will help us continue our “life work.” Let’s promise each other to simplify the noise around us this holiday season and keep our paths narrow so that we may embrace those things that prove that our journeys here are meaningful and blessed.
She read this over my shoulder and when I turned to ask if I might send this into cyberspace, she again smiled and said, “Of course, Mom.”