Of Miracles...

Miracles can happen. That is what the world thinks. That is what people who fight every day believe in. That is what one lives for when all else is lost. A miracle is hard to define. It is not an illusion or a magic trick or a party gimmick. It is perchance to experience something or witness something that is so unexpected and so out of the ordinary that logic pales and the intellect takes a back seat to faith. That is one definition of miracles. The other definition is, simply, hard work. If you do something with dedication day after day after day with no thought other than to solve that one problem or better that one life or reach that one goal against all odds and against what experts, public opinion or even known science tell you, you will get somewhere. It may not be where you want to get. It may not even be a complete solution. But the path to attempting to reach the goal will itself transform the problem in your mind from insurmountable to acceptable and finally the miracle will happen.

It is not easy to hold on to faith when every day is either difficult or holds the promise of being difficult. Not everyone has to deal with such problems of course but in my experience a miracle needs a big enough problem in the first place.  I read about people who do unbelievable things in conditions so adverse it will make you wonder at their strength and ability. I read about parents who leave no stone unturned, who squeeze out every ounce of creativity and put their lives on hold for all time so that they can help their children in the way they needed to be helped. One recent story from the NYT about parents who developed a language and social toolkit out of Disney movies for their autistic son moved me immensely.

Owen sounded like Appu in that he was fine till he was three and a half years old and suddenly began to regress. No one knows why. Autism as a diagnosis never answers the question of ‘why’ – it only labels. Parents keep blaming themselves for years not knowing what they did wrong to have their children become autistic. Was it the vaccinations that they dutifully got their kids to take like any other responsible parent? Was it genetics? Was it environmental pollution? Was it processed baby food? Who knew?

Owen was hooked on to Disney movies in a way that made it possible for his parents to comprehend that it was the single most powerful tool they could ever get to teach him how to be part of this world. They enacted the tales. They talked to him endlessly about what each character might have meant when he said something or what motivated him or her to act in a certain way. The movies gave Owen cues on emotional behaviour and on how to deal with problems in the real world. He was using them as a way to make sense of the world around him. He was learning to talk with them. He was not only drawing them in his sketch books but also breathing life into those characters. And the whole family as well as the support staff of psychiatrist, teacher, therapist and counsellor went along with it. Owen is a really well adjusted young man now who has even found love. For me that is a miracle. I too live in the hope that what we do every single day will lead to my son also being gifted with a miracle when the time is right.

A different kind of victory...

I was very proud of my little girl yesterday. Let me correct that. I am always proud of her because she teaches me life’s lessons in her own unique way just as Appu teaches me to be far  stronger and more patient that I ever thought I could be. I tell them things that I hope will stand them in good stead over the years. I do not know how much my son comprehends but he  certainly does get a few of the lessons I have tried to impart. Mahi listens quite carefully but since she is yet very young, I usually think she isn’t really taking me seriously.

Yesterday, she came back from school toting two heavy bags and looking exhausted. She told me her brother had picked her up from the gate on his bike saving her the effort of carting her bags all the way to the house. I told her how lucky she was to have a brother who cared so much for her and she grinned in agreement. Still sprawled on the floor amidst the bags, she began recounting the highlights of the day as she peeled off various straps and belts. She had had two football matches in school. One was an inter-house one while the other was a small match between two sections of the fourth grade.

She wanted to talk about the second match which took place late afternoon when they were all tired. Her friend Kiara was the captain and she had the right of first selection. She selected all the best players including Mahi leaving a few non-players to make up the other team. Mahi apparently protested pointing out that the teams were not balanced at all and it was grossly unfair. No one bothered and the match started. Mahi’s team was winning effortlessly with the opposing team unable to score even one goal. The opposing team’s captain quit and walked off in disgust by half time. Mahi quietly stated that she would rather help the other team and walked off to join them. She managed to score one goal for the team by the time the match ended. Tired and a little sad, she made her way to the bus and home.

Looking thoughtful and a bit nervous, she came closer to ask me "Amma, do you think I did the right thing?". I asked her what she thought of her act. Her face appeared serious as she said “Well, the first team only wanted to win. I didn’t like the fact that the others did not get a fighting chance. It was unfair. I did what I thought was right Amma.” “Did you win?” I asked. “No, I made just the one goal. They had lots.”

“If you know you have done the right thing and actually stood up for what you believed in, then it took a lot of courage indeed. I am so proud of you Mahi. I can learn lots from you!”. My little sprite smiled a huge smile and hugged me tight. She then went off to shower humming happily all the while as I watched her with a lump in my throat. I knew how much she loved winning. It must have been hard for the child and yet at such an early age she knew that standing up for what was just was more important than winning. I felt truly blessed after hearing her story. Here’s to little Mahi staying true to herself always!