Is It Worth My Time?
Eight children are being led around an arena on horseback, all of them are disabled. One of these precious gifts is my son. Lucas* has an acquired brain injury sustained by exposure to alcohol in his birth-mother’s womb. Lucas has Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, or as it is often simplified, FASD, though I can assure you there is nothing simple about it. When my wife and I felt that uncomfortable sensation many call a ‘burden from the Lord’, we knew it meant launching into the terrifying world of Foster Care. We had no idea it would mean the life-long care of a child with severe special needs. Lucas came into our care as a premature baby under intensive care at our local hospital; we began with no knowledge of his biological history, yet at that point it wouldn’t have mattered to us if we had. Over a decade later though, we are still discovering the implications of living life with an 11 year old toddler.
I sit looking over the arena where my boy waves enthusiastically from the back of ‘Tiger’, his dappled mare that patiently plods her course despite the rambunctious movements of her precious cargo. My smiling eyes wander down to the young lady who patiently leads her charge while courageously responding to the thousand questions she is undoubtedly being assaulted with. Why does she do this?, I wonder, Why is this worth her time? Why does my boy matter to her?
Why does anyone, for that matter, give themselves totally to a cause or charity? I marvel at the developmental coach as she walks beside each of the children, knowing them well enough to communicate in just the right way. I am humbled by the volunteers who turn up day after day, week after week, to a Riding For The Disabled Therapy Group, when none of them are paid to be there.
Why do they care?
I don’t know, but I’m glad they do. I suppose that of all the countless causes that exist, none have any greater intrinsic worth over another, but each have specific value to those who support them. One is not better than another, but each are significant to those who care enough to show up.
I can’t care for every child in need, though they are all precious, but I can love Lucas.
* Name altered for privacy requirements
