Remembering my brother, Pete, born disabled, seventy-five years ago, today; the day a bomb was dropped on Nagasaki.
Pete lived for sixty-three years and I offer the following in his memory.
(Adapted from: Beatitudes for Disabled People… by Marjorie Chappel)
Blessed are you who take time to listen to defective speech, for you help us to know that if we persevere, we can be understood.
Blessed are you who walk with us in public places and ignore the stares of strangers, for in your companionship we find havens of relaxation.
Blessed are you, when by all these things you assure us that the thing that makes us individuals is not our peculiar muscles, nor our wounded nervous system, but is the God-given self that no infirmity can confine.
Blessed are those who realize that we are human - and don’t expect us to be saintly just because we are disabled.
Blessed are those who pick things up without being asked.
Blessed are those who understand that sometimes we are weak and not just lazy.
Blessed are those who forget our disability of the body and see the shape of our soul.
Blessed are those who see us as a whole person, unique and complete, and not as a “half” or one of God’s mistakes.
Blessed are those who love us just as we are without wondering what we might have been like.
I choose to comment on social issues and write creatively on a variety of subjects - for a variety of audiences.