He cannot see the sun…although he feels it on his back…
He cannot see the stars or the moon…for his world is painted black.
She cannot listen to the nightingale sing…or hear footsteps on the ground…
She does not know her mother’s voice…for her world is lacking sound.
He cannot climb the stairs…or jump high into the air…
He cannot walk or run…while confined to his wheelchair.
And we wonder how this is possible?
How did this come to be?
and what must life be like for those so different from you…and me.
So we attempt to come together without making too much of a fuss…
and we try to share our world with them…as they share their world with us.
With our friends who cannot see…we will be each other’s crutch…
as we explain the world we see…and they reveal the beauty there is in touch.
With our friends who cannot hear we find a way to understand…
We will learn to speak with one another…by talking with our hands.
With our friends who are in wheelchairs…we find a common goal…
we will show them how to rock…if they show us how to roll.
And though we’ll never truly understand each other…it’s enough to know we care…
as we slowly begin to realize…despite our differences…there is so much that we share.
And so we wonder…after experiencing our different worlds together…
and having so much fun…
If this kind of acceptance and understanding…would work for everyone.
Perhaps, then, we wouldn’t let our different countries,
different backgrounds…
different colors…
different beliefs…
create in us so much discord
so much pain…and so much grief.
What if the things that make us different…
instead of being feared and hated and banned…
what if the things that make us different
are just different things to understand?
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