Posted in Disability, Poem

It just takes one…to make a difference

Author Unknown

If each grain of sand were to say:
One grain does not make a mountain,
There would be no land.

If each drop of water were to say:
One drop does not make an ocean,
There would be no sea.

If each note of music were to say:
Each note does not make a symphony,
There would be no melody.

If each word were to say:
One word does not make a library,
There would be no book.

If each brick were to say:
One brick does not make a wall,
There would be no house.

If each seed were to say:
One seed does not make a field,
There would be no harvest.

If each of us were to say:
One person does not make the difference,
There would never be love and peace on earth.

You and I do make the difference,
Begin today and make the difference.

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Posted in Disability, Jesus, Life, Love, Poem, poverty

Loving the unlovely

This is another poem by Lance Landall…it struck a chord with me because it’s easy to love people we like but harder to love people that are seen as different for whatever reason.  For me each person is unique and wonderfully made and loved by God…does it really cost us much to show people the respect and care they deserve?  No one should be made to feel second class or second rate because of how they look, what disability they have or where they live…we do that to people not God – God is love and those who live in love live in God and God lives in them…lets show people the love they deserve.

Loving The Unlovely

Don’t mock or laugh at others, nor treat them indifferently,
Just because you think they’re odd, weak, silly, even ugly.
No, never treat unkindly any human on this earth,
Remember: They’re someone’s child, and had no say in their birth.

Yes, love and help the difficult, the misfits, the unlovely,
For they need your love also, more so, unconditionally.
We all love the loveable; that’s easy, natural too,
But loving the unlovely is the greater thing to do.

It’s easy to love your own, they’re your loved ones, after all,
But loving the unlovely — for most — is a very hard call.
Yet, such love’s pure love — and in each of us — such love should be,
Such doesn’t seek to get, just seeks to give, for it’s self free.

Everyone is different, the product of many things,
Hence why out of each one’s life, both good and bad flows or springs.
Take time to get to know folk, accept them the way they are,
Yes, tolerance and understanding have always gone far.

It’s hard enough for many that they feel the way they do,
That they’re struggling with their quirks, anxieties, obsessions too.
Such folk need a helping hand, not those whispers, looks or comments,
Nor thoughtless indifference, that to some, is more intense.

Many not so well endowed with looks, physique or IQ,
Are made to feel inferior by sad things folk say and do.
You may say that folk can choose to feel that way or not, but,
Is anything that easy, and sometimes, things really cut.

Yes, love and help the difficult, the misfits, the unlovely,
For they need your love also, more so, unconditionally.
Never just love your loved ones, or those you’re attracted to,
But show love and care to all — for that’s the greater thing to do.

By Lance Landall

Posted in death, Disability, Funeral Poem, grief, Life, Love, Poem

Heaven’s Special Child

A meeting was held quite far from earth,  
It’s time again for another birth.  
Said the angels to the Lord above;

This special child will need much love  
His progress may be very slow,  
Accomplishments he may not show.  
And he’ll require extra care,  
From the folks he meets down there,

He may not run or laugh or play,  
His thoughts may seem quite far away.  
In many ways he won’t adapt, and he’ll  
Be known as handicapped.

So let’s be careful where he is sent, we want  
His life to be content.

Please, Lord, find the good friends who, will  
Do a special job for you.

They will not realize it right away, the leading  
Role they’re asked to play.  
               But with this child sent from above, comes  
Stronger faith and richer love.  
And soon they will know the privileges given,  
In caring for their gift from Heaven.  
      Their precious charge, so meek and mild, in

Heaven’s  very special child.

Author presently unknown

Posted in Disability, Poem

Every Time My Bum Gets Cold

Another poem I found along with the last one which also makes you stop and think about how you treat people….

Every time my bum gets warm
they expose it to the cold.
and when I’m slipping into sleep,
they throw me in a mould.
Sometimes my head is in the air,
sometimes it’s on the floor;
and where they put my hands and feet
I’m really not quite sure!
I love the one who picks me up
and whispers in my ear;
but all the others seem to think I’m deaf,
or just not here.
They blot me out with blackness,
and stun me with bright white.
They stick my hands in soothing slime,
then stab them so I fight.
When my body shakes and shivers,
I giggle till I cry;
But I don’t know how it happens,
and no one tells me –
WHY?
by Christina Kirkman Ross.
Posted in Disability, Poem

Labelled Disabled

My mother brought this poem home from work years ago.  It was written by a disabled person expressing how what we do and say impacts on them.  This really impacted on me many years ago that we make people feel they are unheard, not complete and second rate.  How judgemental!  Who are we to make another person, any human being feel this way.  I couldn’t resist sharing this poem as it still has a strong message for today…

Labelled Disabled
I live in a body labelled: ‘handicapped’
Stunted legs and arms askew
I live in a body I wouldn’t have chosen
But then few of us do.
 
People say I’m brave
As though bravery were a choice
I learned early not to scream
For mine is an unheard voice
 
The world is competitive
And I’m ill-equipped to compete
But I’m no less a person
Because I’m not complete
 
I live in a body labelled: ‘second rate’
But I feel second to none
When society knows the difference
Then my battle is won.   
Anon.