My son is two years old. He cannot four point crawl. He cannot walk with out aid. He cannot stand on his own. He cannot drink from a cup. He cannot eat with utensils. He cannot catch himself if he falls. And, he cannot run and play with his older brother.

Yet, he can smile so brightly that he lights up a room. He can love unconditionally. He can willingly accept his “lot in life” and never feel as if he has been cheated. He can find pleasure in the laughter of other children playing. Because his life moves at a slower pace, he can take the time to notice the things that many of us pass by. The gentle rustle of the breeze, the symbiotic flap of the bird’s wing, the grainy texture of a piece of sand. And, he relishes the thrill in “small steps” the way an Olympic athlete relishes winning a medal.

He has taught me the greatest lesson that I have learned in life so far, the lesson that no one wants to learn voluntarily--that one grows by suffering. I am a different person than I was 1 ½ ago. I am stronger, I am more compassionate, I am better. I have learned that although I did not think it, I have the perfect life. To many this is unimaginable and yet I would not trade my experiences for the chance to walk an easier road. My son has taught me that life is short and we must each celebrate every day that we are given. We cannot count on there being a tomorrow. I have learned that there is beauty to be found even on a rainy day. I have learned to love more and to hate less. And mostly, I have learned to live life with no fear and no regrets.

Thank you, sweet baby, for all you have given me -- for being my teacher, lighting the path, and showing me the way.

--by Nancy T.,
               Dillon adoptive mother