I heard a series of loud grunts coming from the other side of the pool. It was strange and uncomfortable for me at first. I’d hear it almost every time I am there. After a while though, I just managed to ignore it.
It has become commonplace to find people with some form of disabilities in public facilities. We might be curious and stare at the beginning, but over time we no longer see them. Perhaps it is in our nature to ignore them and just mind our own business? However, the grunt that comes from this person is often so loud that it is like her announcement to the world, “I am here. You cannot ignore the fact that I exist.”
She is heavy-set and wears her silver hair short like a man. She does her routines of treading across the walking lanes – while she grunts.
One day, a tall and slender lady with deep wrinkles around her eyes flashed a smile at me. Impressed and flattered by her friendliness, I started a small talk. I noticed that she came in with the woman that grunts.
“Oh, is she your friend?” I asked.
“A friend? Oh, no…” She chuckled and shook her head. “I was her teacher when she was eight.”
She was her teacher when she was eight? And now she takes her to the pool when she is – how old?
I soon found out this special adult is called Elizabeth, and she is…my age. (I have to say she didn’t age as well as I did. I’d have dyed all of that silver hair black.)
“I bring her here three times a week, and I get to exercise too. So it works out.” Nonchalantly, the lady said.
My heart stirred. I was so ready to heap mountains of praise on her for her selfless deed, but she quickly went on to talk about her children and grandchildren. Swiping her phone through hundreds of photos, she was set on looking for the perfect one to show me.
But I was still thinking about Elizabeth.
A week later, I saw two of them again. I couldn’t help but approach the lady that brought her.
“May I ask…where does she live now? Is she in a home? Or she lives with her family?”
“She lives with her mother,” without any hesitation the lady replied, “but her mother has dementia, so they have someone who comes in to stay with them around the clock just to make sure they are safe.”
I can hardly imagine a home occupied by an elderly lady with dementia and her mentally impaired adult child.
Elizabeth will turn 46 next February.
I have just learned about Night to Shine, an annual worldwide prom sponsored by Tim Tebow’s foundation to celebrate teens, men, and women with disabilities. On the Friday before Valentine’s Day, they will be given the royal treatment of red carpet and paparazzi while wearing dazzling gowns and tuxedos. And a glorious moment will come when they are crowned as king and queen.
“It’s hard not to be touched by the sight of hundreds of people with special needs being celebrated – some of them for the first time.” (Steve Helling, People Magazine, 2/16/2017)
Most of them would not have attended their high school prom…and some will probably never marry. But for one magical night, they will see the world shine a bright light on them – not as outcasts, but as God’s beloved creation. They will be noticed, they will be honored, and they will be adored, and loved.
A crazy thought came to me to invite Elizabeth to the Night to Shine event to celebrate her 46th birthday. Honestly, I am full of doubts as it is easier to live life when we keep our heads down and hearts closed. But one thing I do know and can do is that I will stop pretending I don’t see Elizabeth. I will flash a big smile and call her by her very beautiful name.