The bravest person I ever met
The bravest person I ever met was a little girl three years old. She was in a baby walker and was so small and helpless. Yet, she seldom asked for help of any kind. She was such a piteous sight that I was amazed that she was not consumed with self-pity. She didn't have to be, as all that saw her loved her instantly. She had their total admiration and devotion. She was a poster child for crippled children one year. People stopped and talked to her in the stores; but she never replied. She just looked at them with her big brown eyes.
This child, names Ricci, came into my home for me to care for and love. She could not or would not carry on a conversation of the simplest kind. If you talked to her and asked her a question, she would say the strangest things, quite unrelated to what you had asked. Many thought she was either unintelligent or retarded or had defective reasoning abilities.
I knew better as I had kept her when she was 6 mos. old; and she was a normal child then. She would jump up and down in my lap as I held her hands and gurgle and coo at me as I talked to her. In every way she was normal. She had been left with sitters and had been left in a baby bed or walker, that only let her toes touch the floor, so long that her hamstrings had drawn up and she could not stand and refused to talk to anyone in anything that resembled a conversation.
If you tried to get her to do anything about the situation her siblings, one sister and a pair of twin brothers, instantly rushed to her defense and informed you that she couldn't do anything as she was retarded and a cripple who would never walk. I wondered who hat convinced them of these things, as the eldest was only six at the time. Someone had not only convinced the others of this but also Ricci as well. So, she refused to even try to talk intelligently or walk or do anything else--especially to enter into potty training
Yet, this child longed to be free. She never said a word, but one lonely, trapped soul can tell another. She would move her walker to the glass doors and watch as her siblings ran and played. She would watch for hours. She was not happy sitting in that walker. I took them all to the park as often as a mother with five growing children can manage, those four and my own little 4 mo. old daughter, their half-sister.
She loved them with a love beyond belief; but they did not return her love. They had been at war with the whole world against them so long that there really wasn't room for anyone else in it at the time. In time, Ricci and the smallest of the twin boys came to accept Micci as their own; but the two biggest ones never did. They were still holding out against the world and the law that sent them to their father and stepmother's house inspite of what they wanted. They were at war and made no bones about it. It would take a hammer and chisel to break down that wall. Maybe, I thought, love could. I gave them lots of love and rules that they had never had to live by. War is hell! If God doesn't help me, all hope is lost--not only for them but for Ricci as well.
After months of rebellion, Peggy, the eldest and surrogate mother, finally came to believe that I had her best interests at heart and began to change--slowly, ever so slowly--but change she did. She stopped fighting and called a truce. Not surrender, but a truce. She chose to wait and see if this was real love or just pretense. She controlled the others so an uneasy truce held. One day she made me cry when she asked me, "May I call you "Mama" instead of Matilda? I replied, "If you would like to, but you know I'm not your Mama just your step-mama." She replied, "Yes, I know but I really want to." I replied, "You may, but it would be better if you didn't call me that in front on your Mama when she comes to visit or when you talk to her. It might hurt her feelings!" She promised that she wouldn't and from then on I was simply "Mama." They had been with me about 8 or 9 months by now. Love and God had made a way in a dark forest with no trails!
They looked so much like me that all who saw them told me so. I just smiled and said, "Thank you!" for they did. Their own mama was dark like me so there wasn't much difference. We were a sight, when we went to the store, which wasn't often. Usually their daddy would leave us in the car and just run in while we waited. I carried Micci and their Daddy carried Ricci! She had heavy brakes with the large brown shoes that I wore as a child on her feet. She had to even sleep in them to try to straighten her heels and lengthen her hamstrings.
She hated it but never complained. She did complain of the exercises that they said she had to have at least twice each day to lengthen her hamstrings. We had to grasp her heel and press upon her sole to try to bring it forward. She screamed "bloody-murder", as my Mama would have said. We had to do this for 15 minutes at a time. Her Daddy did it for 2 times and then never came home at night until he knew I had them in bed. He would not do it again and said he didn't care if she never walked he would not do them again but he wanted me to continue them. I felt it was his responsibility as it made me cry to do it and scream inside myself with her.
I continued for about a week before I gave up, too. Finally, I prayed for God to show me how I could get her to do them without screaming. One day she was watching the others troop through the house from the neighbors to our back yard where the swing set was. Suddenly, the thought occurred to me to let her swing herself. She loved to swing. I had taken her enough to the park and pushed her in the baby swings so she wouldn't fall out. I took her hands and walked her out to the swings and laid her face down on the swing and told her to push with her feet to get it to going. At first she just lay there, but then she hesitatingly began to push with her toes. Soon she could make it go pretty well. Enough to satisfy her anyway.
She did this about 2 weeks and then I told her Daddy to tape her old shoes to the tricycle in the back yard. He looked at me funny but got his tape and secured the shoes to the pedals. Then I told him to put Ricci on the tricycle and push her around the yard. He did and she was delighted and never screamed again even when he pushed her fast. Her little legs went up and down, up and down, exercising them with every turn of the wheel. She was having so much fun that she forgot the pain it might have caused her.
Now, she was free. When the other kids wanted to go next door, I told them to get the tricycle and take Ricci, too. At first it was fun for them as well. They liked to push her but sometimes they went too fast or she turned the wheel too slowly and they turned over. She seldom cried. She just wanted back on her tricycle and to go again. Soon, however, the new wore off and they would leave her behind as they ran and played. She would watch them playing and running and having fun from her tricycle. So, I would go and push her awhile. She never wanted to go in even to go to the bathroom. I would have to insist that we come in for awhile so she could rest. She sat on the floor in front of the door and watched them or waited for them to come home.
As the baby, Micci, grew and learned to walk, Ricci was always watching. She didn't mind her crawling along the floor but when she started pulling up at the table and standing on her feet, she seemed to watch even closer. So, I would take her hand and help her to stand up too by holding on to the tables and chairs and slowly moving around the room as Micci did. She was so proud when I praised her; but she just smiled and said nothing.
Next, I stood Micci up against the wall and encouraged her to come to me, as her Daddy and I had been having her walk to us from the other for a little time. Now I wanted her to be able to walk by herself. Ricci watched everything I did with Micci and would try to copy it as much as she could. I would just smile knowing that she was trying to learn to walk. I had felt sure that she wanted to learn but now I had proof. Micci slowly gained confidence and would stand up in the middle of the floor and walk wherever she wanted even if she did fall often. Each time she fell, I could see Ricci smile. She had not been left behind yet! But soon this changed also and the other kids began to pay more attention to Micci as she could walk after them now. She would go outside and play in the sand. This was fine with Ricci, as she loved to play in the sand, too. But soon they were coaxing Micci to go with them instead of staying and playing with Ricci! Again I felt her sadness in falling behind her little sister!
The other children took the Micci with them next door, but not Ricci. "She is too slow," they said. This hurt Ricci, I know, but she never complained. She just sat outside on her tricycle until Daddy or I came by to push her or the boys decided to push her too fast and turned her over again. I could swear they did it on purpose, but maybe not!
Ricci began to be aggressive with Micci. She would reach up and pull her over by grasping her hair and put her leg, with the heavy brace, across her so she couldn't get up and I heard her say, "No, Baby!" as clearly as can be! So, she could talk! I knew she could understand and communicate with her siblings and me in her mind; but now she had betrayed the fact that she could also talk if she so chose! Not just "crazy" or off the wall things, either. Micci would begin to cry and I would have to rescue her from the huge brace. I explained to Ricci that she could hurt Micci with that brace and for her not to be doing that. She didn't reply, but I knew she heard and understood.
As we started training Micci in the bathroom, I started Ricci as well. I would take her and sit her on the edge of the tub for her to watch all that I did with Micci. Next, I would bring Micci in and sit her on her little potty seat. Ricci watched this but never said a word. After Micci sat on the potty, it was Ricci's turn. She never did anything but she began to get the idea. As Micci progressed and I praised her, Ricci began responding and I gave her praise as well. Micci always helped me out in that area. She loved to clap her hands and shout "Whee!"
Soon, they both had learned what the bathroom was far and seldom had an accident unless they were outside playing and waited too long to start for the potty. Ricci had trouble making it because she was so much slower in her ability to climb the back porch steps. She had to sit down, turn over on her stomach and crawl up the steps, then laboriously stand up and come in and holding onto the wall slowly move around the room until she came to the hall and then into the bath. It took so much time; but she tried so hard that I seldom scolded her if she didn't make it.
Our walls had her prints all along each wall. To see her in my mind's eye, all I needed was to see her trail on my wall! Ricci had a stubborn streak a mile wide. I didn't mind, as I knew that is what gave her the ability to try things for herself and not always need help! Once she decided to try something, she did it! If she got mad at us about something, however, she never complained. She had a better way of showing her displeasure. She soiled her clothes. She did this every time she became upset or angry!
This I had to bring to a stop or she wouldn't be allowed to attend school with the others. She didn't mind, but I did. Also she would have to start communicating with adults to be able to talk to her teachers or be classed as retarded. I knew she wasn't; but I had to convince her that she must learn to talk. This would not be easy! I talked to no avail. She still soiled her clothes if she became upset or angry!
One day after bathing her after she had soiled her clothes, I left her in the tub. She lifted her arms to be taken out. I told her we would stay there for a little while so she could think about not soiling her clothes when she got mad. I asked her if she understood she and me went into her routine when questioned. I told her to stop and she did. Then I asked her again if she understood. She started to say, "The sky is blue and the flowers sing!" as she had before but I cut her off with a look. She knew all my looks as I used them with the other children. She stopped in mid-sentence!
I said, "Ricci, I know that you understand me and that you can talk if you want to. I need you to answer me. I love you and wouldn't ask you to do anything that would hurt you. I don't like people to question me either, but sometimes we need to be able to talk to people and make them understand with our mouth. Everyone will not be able to understand you unless you will talk to him or her. You will never be able to go to school with Micci and the others if you will not talk to us. She began to cry. She so wanted to keep up with Micci. The other kids had always left her behind; but she wanted to stay ahead of Micci!
Again I repeated my question and this time she replied, "Yes, Mama!" I hugged her and dried her off and quickly dressed her and took her outside to play. From then on, she began to try to answer my questions. She didn't always answer others, but she did try to communicate with me! As her legs got stronger and she could stand longer on them, I felt it was time to teach her to walk, too. My sister, who was staying with us at that time, hated me! She thought I was the meanest person she had ever known. She would talk to me softly, however.
One day she asked me, "Do you really think she can walk? Her siblings said her mother had told them that she never would! Wouldn't to be better just to let her alone as she is? At least you have let her learn to walk holding onto the walls!" I told her of taking care of her at 6 mos. and her jumping in my lap. I explained why I believed that she could walk if I could convince her that she could. I believe that she had been convinced that she would never walk, but that she hated it. She really did want to walk. Maybe she would never walk like others! Maybe she would limp, but she could walk if she believed that she could--if I could just break through to her will to walk. It was there! It just needed to be put in place!"
My sister still resisted me at every turn and looked her hatred each time I tried to get her to walk. Even her Daddy didn't really believe that she would walk! She was 4 and 1/2 already. But I couldn't forget her jumping in my lap as a baby! . So, once more, I stood her against the wall and asked her to trust me and just take one step to me! She cried and I coaxed her again! I reminded her that I had never let her fall. Suddenly, she stood up straight, looked at Micci and the others and I saw a light flare up in her eyes! She suddenly cried, loudly, "See, Mama, I CAN!" and launched herself at me with all her heart! I caught her as she fell into my arms, but she had taken that one step!
My sister cried and cried and wrote a poem about that day entitled, "See, Mama, I CAN!" Her Daddy told me not to get my hopes up; but they were soaring already and nothing could bring them down! She had believed that she could and she did! She would practice and practice until she could walk! Nothing would turn her back now! I didn't know how I knew this, but I did! And she did. First 2 steps and then 3, 5, and across the room she came to me and fell into my arms! My husband confessed that he had never really believed that she would ever walk. But, she was walking! Now we walked into the yard and she tripped on the grass or steps, yet she was not stopping! Into the front yard and down the street she and I walked sometimes holding my hands--sometimes she wanted to do it herself! She was slow--but on she came--never stopping
Before she entered school she had an operation to lengthen her hamstrings more. Her parents took her to Dallas for the surgery! Afterward, my husband came home and left her and her mother there. She was supposed to re-learn to walk on her crutches, but soon we got a call asking us to come to Dallas, as they couldn't communicate with her. Her mother requested that he bring me as well as I seem to be the only one to whom she would talk! I saw her immediately and she me and she began to cry and call, "Mama, Mama!" I knew this angered her mother; but at the moment I didn't care. I rushed to her and gathered her in my arms and we cried together for a few minutes. Then the doctors asked me to try to get her to use the bars and walk to me. I tried, but she refused so I simply took her hand, gave her a crutch under her other and we walked around the room. We walked slowly, but we walked! Back and forth we went and finally I stood her between the bars again and gave her both crutches. She cried and said, "No, Mama, I'll fall!" The doctors were amazed that she understood and could answer me. They were convinced that she was retarded and couldn't understand. Once more I took her away from the bars and knelt beside her and gave her both of the crutches! All eyes were on us, but I ignored them! She cried as I softly said, "Ricci do you trust me?" She slowly nodded her head! "I will not let you fall! I am right here and will catch you!" She cried and yet once again I saw her look of resolve come into her eyes! She stopped crying and came right at me. She took 3 steps before she fell into my arms. All this time they had looked on and left me alone to do, as I knew what I had to do! And she was walking slowing across the floor and then she looked up and said, "See, Daddy, I can walk again!" It was his turn to wipe tears away saying, "I got something in my eyes!" We brought her home that night!
Ricci struggled and struggled and struggled and WON! She walked with a limp they told me later after she went home to live with her mother when I got pregnant again and had to go to bed to keep him as I had my daughter. I had cared for them for three years of tears, pain, discouragement, and victory! I never saw her again, but heard that she was again the poster child and had become a painter like me and had her own display! I like to think that somehow I helped her in all these things she was able to accomplish! Again I say, "Ricci is the bravest person I have ever known!
Rev. Mattie Westbrook
The Tool
The Tool Ministries
806 747 3114
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