Our kids are in the “love Lego” stage of life (which I hope they never grow out of). For the past few years, we’ve given them Lego Advent calendars, which they greatly enjoy. This year, we got them one and my parents got them another. So the kids rotate who gets to open them each day.
Today, I came downstairs from getting dressed to see one of daughters helping our son put together what he’d gotten in his calendar. I was reminded of these beautiful words from Miguel Romero, whose academic work on disability I really like, about growing up with a disabled sibling:
From my earliest memories, Vicente was not a surd in my life, my understanding of God, or my understanding of the world. Rather, it was the complete opposite: the discomforting and foreboding surd was the strange ways of thinking and strange ways of reacting to my brother that came along with words like “mentally handicapped,” “profoundly retarded,” and “intellectually disabled.” There is nothing wrong with my brother, he just needs extra help. Whatever applies to me, applies to him; whatever applies to him, applies to me. That’s been my rule, for as long as I can remember.“Disability, Theological Method, and Authorial Positionality,” Syndicate
May our kids’ experiences be the same. May they always think of disability simply as part of life and to see their brother as equally valuable, equally in the imago, equally worth knowing.