Our last week on Roatan Island turned out to be a good time.
We went to Cattleya, a learning center for those with special needs. 
The first day I was there for 4 hours. Truthfully, those might have been the longest 4 hours of the Race. Teaching social skills, math, and reading comprehension are just not my forte. I assisted Brooklynn with discussing what it means to be a good friend. For reading comprehension, I read a Bug’s Life story, asking questions about what was happening in the story along the way. I tried to teach the touch point math system to one kid, but I was pretty unsuccessful. I’m not the greatest of teachers in this area.
But I returned, somewhat reluctantly, the following day. The moment I walked through the door that day, however, the expectation was for me to do PT. The first kid they brought me was a non-verbal sweetheart young girl. She has balance, coordination, gait difficulties due to cerebral palsy. I was nervous because this is not a population I have ever worked with, and I didn’t think I had much to offer. But then as I worked with her, I began to find ways to use the center’s resources to do some neuro re-education with her. The lady running the clinic wrote down all the exercises in Spanish so that they can continue with her.
They brought a little boy next, but I unfortunately was unable to help him due to the complications of his situation. And then I got to help out the lady running the clinic with her knee pain.
I really enjoyed the opportunity to do PT and it definitely made the time fly, but I was definitely not planning to return the following day. Suddenly a man showed up, saying that he had seen the sign that this was a therapy center. He had questions about how to help his 3-year-old son. Next thing I know, I’m agreeing to take a look at his son the next afternoon…
God’s way of getting me to come back?
..probably..
And so I returned to the learning center the next day, thinking that I would be mostly repeating my fumbling attempts at teaching math or something else while waiting for this man to come with his son.
But then I arrived, and they brought the most precious little girl, pointing at her palsied right arm and difficulties in walking. At first I thought to tell them I don’t work with hand problems, but as I looked at her motor control a rush of exercise ideas came to mind. So I went with it.
Besides, maybe they just need hope and a way to channel it through activity.
I was able to find activities that this lovely little girl really enjoyed and that challenged her arm in just the right way. Every time she did something well or improved, we would clap and cheer, and then she would give me a big, long hug. Those hugs ministered to my own heart more than I can express. Sweet moments I hope never to forget. God knew I needed the hugs of a little angel to bring healing to this tired heart.
And that man never did return with his son…
