Tuesday, October 29, 2013

My little woman

I spent a quick lunch watching 3 of the kiddos in their Fall Sing. I always love to see the kids perform and it was Vardan's first performance on the trombone! But the best part came after the concert.
I spy a clarinetist & a little guy in the back with a big trombone...
I was walking my sweet Sallie Rose from the auditorium to get her lunch, when a woman I didn't recognize came up and gave her a big hug. She said, "Oh my little woman, Sallie, it's so nice to see you." The woman looked up and saw me; I'm sure I was standing there with a very confused look on my face. She asked if I was Salllie's mom, and when I said yes, she told me that every day, Sallie makes an effort to say hello to and talk to her son. She got choked up as she told me that her son is the little boy who's severely disabled in a wheelchair in 3rd grade (a year older than Sallie) and that most of the kids ignore him or worse. She thanked me for raising such a beautiful little spirit who every day reaches out to make her son feel included and welcome.
My little woman

I think, in that moment, with Sallie looking up at me smiling and kinda confused, my heart almost burst. And, of course, she said to me as the woman walked away, "Mama, why are you going to cry?"

It's amazing when you realize your children are living the values you hope you are teaching them, when you find out that without your coaxing or guidance, they reach out to those in need. It's amazing when you see the little people they are becoming, when you see who they are and a glimpse of who they will someday be. It's breathtaking to see your child through someone else's eyes and know that she, just by being herself, is making the world better and brighter.
Jazz hands!

Sallie has always been my little woman. I loved seeing her singing and dancing on stage today, but the best part was seeing the impact of her big heart, for which no audience may ever applaud and no viral video may ever be posted.


  1. What a wonderful thing to read about your daughter; you have every right to be proud and inspired. My 10 year old son, Jacob, has an autism diagnosis and is sociable and (very) vocal, but as a parent I worry about social moments, especially at school. Not exactly the same as being disabled in a wheelchair, but similar in spirit. Jacob would have called your reaction "happy tears."

    1. I think it was particularly more poignant to me because of our "bionic boy," her older brother who is mostly deaf and wears glasses. Although she has learned how to support her brother within the context of our family, it's infinitely more difficult to ignore the peer pressure to push away those who are different in social contexts. But maybe not for Sallie! Tell Jacob that "happy tears" are the best kind of tears :)