I WORK FOR a state agency. We give support and assistance to people with disabilities. Many of the clients are mentally disabled, and many are children. Each employee is assigned one client with whom to work, so that everyone needing assistance can have the undivided attention of support staff.
Its really a wonderful system, and many people benefit from it. Its very existence is a tribute to the kindness, compassion, and generosity of the american people, who support these types of programs in every state in the union. My job reminds me daily how truly great the united states of america is, how beautiful the american people are, and I give my deepest thanks and admiration to my fellow americans. In a word, thank you for everything.
My client is a fourteen year old male who ins in the ninth grade, and has a variety of mental disabilities which I am not a liberty to discuss. During the twelve years I have had this job I have had several different clients, and they have all, in one way or another, presented challenges.
They have taught me more than I have taught them, and I hope and pray that i have contributed even a fraction to them of what they have given, unwittingly, to me. Its often frustrating work, it requires a good deal of patience and understanding, and persistence, but make no mistake about it, those of us who work in this field are not special in any way, we have no special talents, we are not heros, as we are often accused of being, we simply love what we do. Its addictive, because its rewarding beyond description, certainly not financially, but emotionally , spiritually.
Day after day is filled with frustration. But when something positive happens, it seems like an enormous victory, breaking in on you like a brilliant explosion of joyful, beautiful illumination.
When I left work today the kid pointed to his mother, then to something on the table. He was too introverted to tell me directly, even though I have worked with him a long time. His mom handed me a square package, crudely wrapped in bright red chritsmas paper, remindful of how i wrap gifts; very poorly. He had obviously wrapped it himself, and he did a better job than i would have, which isn't saying much.
He said to me: "its for your cat"....
"how did you know I had a cat?", i asked him, through his mother, because he doesn't like to talk much to anyone but her. "I think maybe you must have told his grandparents about her, and he overheard you", she replied.
Well, of course, anyone who reads this blog knows by now that I have a new kitten, a stray I named "mandi", that she came to me wild, she is beautiful, and she chose me, by refusing to leave my front porch. Also, of course, I have jake, also wild, adorable, and persistent.
Derek (my client) told his mother to tell me not to open it till christmas, as i stood there, right next to both of them, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. I evidently had not mentioned the arrival of jake, (who was named after a sympathetic character in a john grisham novel). so the gift will be shared.
On christmas morning I will find out what's inside. I might let jake and mandi rip open the extremely lightweight box. I'm sorta hoping its a toy; that's what they need most. I'm thinking about explaining to derek that i actually have two cats, (kittens), and that he could have at least been good enough to give a present to each of them. He would probably understand the joke, but I had better hold my smart ass tongue, just in case.
Right about now I am the happiest man on the face of the earth, and its all because of derek, jake, mandi, and the beautiful, lovely american people. Don't worry, I won't let them fight over it.
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