Changing Attitudes? I hope so.

I stepped out of my sister's house into the pouring rain and made my way down the driveway. I had spent the day with her in Monsey and was now heading home to Boro Park. It was pitch dark and I was glad to step into the van that provided a door- to-door service from Monsey to Boro Park. The van was full except for one seat in the middle row. I sat down thankfully, glad to be on my way. I was tired from a full day of helping my sister prepare for a simcha and was thankful to be able to doze off.

Behin! d me two women were deeply engrossed in a conversation. I am not a curious person by nature and therefore paid no particular attention to their discussion. Suddenly I heard one of the women raise her voice and ask, "What do you think about the fact that these people are the parents of two children who are unwell, both physically and mentally? Would you let it bother you?"
Here I admit, I did perk up my ears and, although I looked straight ahead nonchalantly at the highway that unrolled in front of us for miles like a black ribbon, I sat upright and listened intently.

"She is a wonderful girl and everything that we are looking for. We are going to meet her parents at the end of the week. I have a strong feeling that this will end in a shidduch between their daughter and our son Moishe. Call it womanly intuition if you must."

Her companion answered, " I think you have the right attitude. This is something to which none o! f us are assured immunity. Why should a girl who is something special, be rejected because of her siblings' condition? It is nothing to be ashamed of. It is not something they chose! It was the work of Hashem and He never makes mistakes. Besides these two sons, they have a family of beautiful, healthy children, most of whom are married with lovely children of their own. Who are you, or for that matter, who am I, to judge what the future will bring? If it is bashert, it should be with great mazel and bracha!"

The first woman then related a story about a shidduch where the vort was about to take place, when the father of the kallah discovered that the chassan had a sibling with Down Syndrome. He was so upset and felt so "cheated" that no one had informed him that he refused to allow the engagement to take place! The boy later married a wonderful girl and this man's daughter did not find her basherte for many years. When she finally did marry, her first ! child was born with Down Syndrome.

Following this conversation, there was silence in the car. My cheeks were wet, partially from the raindrops still dripping off my rain hat, but there was another reason too. I was weeping silently with joy as I contemplated the great changes in attitude that have taken place in the years since my first two sons were born over thirty years ago and suffered massive brain injury due to lack of oxygen. After working with them for many years with little or no results, they had to be placed in an institution and I thought my world had come to an end. People did not speak about them in those days. It was a subject to be ignored, and we were very much alone. Now, thirty five years and many healthy, wonderful children later Boruch Hashem, I see, hear and read that it is a changed world. Our disabled children have emerged, and the subject is no longer taboo. There is sharing and caring out there. There is a greater understandin! g and acceptance, and even hands stretched out in assistance.

When we reached the outskirts of Boro Park the driver asked me for my address. I hastily gave an address some ten blocks away from my home and I got out of the van into the downpour that had not abated. I pulled down my rain hat discreetly and murmured a "good-night" keeping my head averted.
You see, dear reader, the lady sitting in the back of the van was scheduled to come meet my husband and myself at the end of the week to discuss the shidduch between our children, their son and our lovely daughter! Although I had heard wonderful things about her, I had never met her. My instincts, too, told me that this shidduch would come to fruition.

I did not want her to recognize me!

Anonymous.

P.S The children are now happily married and I never told my machateneste about that trip and the conversati! on I overheard on the van.