my friend tells me about her special needs son. he is slow, she says. he will always need help. i hope he can learn a useful skill that he can parlay into self-support in time.
how many broken dreams lie behind those words, i wonder. how many modified designs and arrested hopes are needed to help a mother look past the pain and focus on the need? grain must be ground to make bread, someone reminds me. one does not volunteer to be ground. but if mayhaps one is, the bread is the finer for it.
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