Both Lindsay and I have wonderful memories of cousins from our respective childhoods.
As I was growing up, I was surrounded by cousins from both sides of my family. Traveling to Joliet, Niles, Evanston, Indiana and even Boston afforded me an opportunity to get to know my cousins and to play with them.
Lindsay had the great fortune of seeing her many cousins often as she and her family spent holidays and vacations together. They forged lifelong relationships that permeate their existences today, bringing all of them a sense of pleasure, nostalgia, and love.
Ava, Henry, & Ella have their cousins, too. From our hometown of Naperville to Chicago and out to Virginia there are special kids that surround ours. Ages may vary among them but the connection they share with each other is indicative of the connection only cousins can have.
One difference between Lindsay and my cousins in comparison to our kids' cousins is that one of the members in our kids' cousins "group" has significant special needs...namely, Ella. Her diagnosis of SMA has been part of the cousins' life in ways that we may not begin comprehend. It's amazing to watch them as they interact with her, especially watching it develop over the past few years. They are gentle, understanding, compassionate, and mindful to include her. They do not allow her disability to interfere with their relationship with her and seemingly see right past it.
They can also be empathetic at times.
One of Ella's cousins (Johnny) who is just a few years older than her loves to play with Ava, Henry, and Ella. He loves creative play and has developed a good sense of fair play. As he engages in what cousins do best it obvious that he is enjoying himself. But there's something that is not so obvious, at least not until now.
Empathy coupled with selflessness.
Apparently Johnny's teacher gave him and his class an assignment. It was a rather creative, thought-provoking assignment (those are the best kind!). The teacher asked the students to answer the following question: "If you could be a gift to somebody, what would you be?"
Naturally one might assume that a child of Johnny's age might struggle a bit with this question. It asks the child to step out of the "concrete" way of thinking and enter, ever so slightly, into the "abstract". It forces the student to grapple with what a gift means and how they can impart that gift to someone else...it requires that the student step outside of the innate egocentric nature of children and enter the empathetic nature usually reserved for those older than them.
Johnny took this opportunity to show us what cousins are truly made of...his response to the assignment was that he'd "like to be a 'gift of legs' for his cousin, Ella---because she can't walk and sometimes she feels left out when we are all playing and she can't do some of things we can do."
An incredible thought. A compassionate act. A demonstration of how children are so often the lights of this world...how they can be examples to follow.
With that kind of love surrounding Ella, even from thousands of miles away, with that kind of love that only a cousin can impart, it's no wonder she thrives---despite the SMA.
As I was growing up, I was surrounded by cousins from both sides of my family. Traveling to Joliet, Niles, Evanston, Indiana and even Boston afforded me an opportunity to get to know my cousins and to play with them.
Lindsay had the great fortune of seeing her many cousins often as she and her family spent holidays and vacations together. They forged lifelong relationships that permeate their existences today, bringing all of them a sense of pleasure, nostalgia, and love.
Ava, Henry, & Ella have their cousins, too. From our hometown of Naperville to Chicago and out to Virginia there are special kids that surround ours. Ages may vary among them but the connection they share with each other is indicative of the connection only cousins can have.
One difference between Lindsay and my cousins in comparison to our kids' cousins is that one of the members in our kids' cousins "group" has significant special needs...namely, Ella. Her diagnosis of SMA has been part of the cousins' life in ways that we may not begin comprehend. It's amazing to watch them as they interact with her, especially watching it develop over the past few years. They are gentle, understanding, compassionate, and mindful to include her. They do not allow her disability to interfere with their relationship with her and seemingly see right past it.
They can also be empathetic at times.
One of Ella's cousins (Johnny) who is just a few years older than her loves to play with Ava, Henry, and Ella. He loves creative play and has developed a good sense of fair play. As he engages in what cousins do best it obvious that he is enjoying himself. But there's something that is not so obvious, at least not until now.
Empathy coupled with selflessness.
Apparently Johnny's teacher gave him and his class an assignment. It was a rather creative, thought-provoking assignment (those are the best kind!). The teacher asked the students to answer the following question: "If you could be a gift to somebody, what would you be?"
Naturally one might assume that a child of Johnny's age might struggle a bit with this question. It asks the child to step out of the "concrete" way of thinking and enter, ever so slightly, into the "abstract". It forces the student to grapple with what a gift means and how they can impart that gift to someone else...it requires that the student step outside of the innate egocentric nature of children and enter the empathetic nature usually reserved for those older than them.
Johnny took this opportunity to show us what cousins are truly made of...his response to the assignment was that he'd "like to be a 'gift of legs' for his cousin, Ella---because she can't walk and sometimes she feels left out when we are all playing and she can't do some of things we can do."
An incredible thought. A compassionate act. A demonstration of how children are so often the lights of this world...how they can be examples to follow.
With that kind of love surrounding Ella, even from thousands of miles away, with that kind of love that only a cousin can impart, it's no wonder she thrives---despite the SMA.
Johnny & Ella Christmas, 2014 |