Last week we worked with mentally and physically disabled kids. And when I say kids, I mean people anywhere from six to in their twenties. I had never worked with disabled people or mentally disabled people, much less those who suffer from both. I was scared. I was the opposite of excited. I absolutely did not want to go. So we went.
The first day and within the first five minutes, I met Vesi. Vesi is probably seven. No one knows for sure. I’m sure its on a record somewhere, but those are probably classified. Vesi is blind and because what used to be “taking care of disabled orphans” was leaving them in bed and making sure they are fed and have clean diapers, Vesi can’t talk. She can’t feed herself without help. She’s still in a diaper. She can’t pull herself to stand and walk by herself.
Vesi can, however, scream her head off and continue to scream until yours falls off too. And that’s exactly what she did when she first met me. She hated me. Vesi can hit and throw things very hard. Something else Vesi can do is steal your heart in less than seven days.
The first few days were pretty rough. There was a lot of screaming and not wanting to let me lead her in our walks. She likes being left alone usually and when her routine of laying around is interrupted, she acts a lot like me when I don’t get my coffee in the mornings.
By the third day she finally trusted me. She could feel my arm and hear my voice and know it was me. She would make noises at me and I’d make them back. But what will never leave the depths of my mind is Vesi’s laugh. In all her screaming, her laughs are what I will remember. Many people who had worked with her before said she had never laughed like that before. Like she gave me a special one she only gives to people who are me. And I swear if there was any way I could go back in time and bottle Jesus’ saliva, she would have Bulgarian mud all over her. I would just dip her in it.
You see, Vesi is a lot like me. She doesn’t trust at first and she can be a raging bitch when she doesn’t get her way, but when she loves you, Oh God, when she loves you…
She’ll try her hardest to push herself off the floor to come to you when she hears your voice enter the room. She’ll open her eyes and focus for just a second trying to see if you’re smiling back at her. She’ll rub her hands on your face and around your hands trying to understand you better. She’ll stop screaming when you whisper her name in her ear.
Vesi taught me a lot about my relationship with God and others. I don’t trust people when I first meet them. I come off as unapproachable and I don’t pursue others. They have to pursue me. But just like Vesi, when I love, I love deep.
Though I’m blind a lot of the time and don’t have words to say, I try to feel God and understand Him more. And every day, if I choose to open my eyes, for split seconds I catch glimpses of His face. And in the chaos of this world and the small part of it that is my life, I calm down when He whispers in my ear. I pray He only remembers my laugh and the laugh of the girl who let me lead her.
