Every Christmas I return to Emmanuel—"God with us." The same name we chose for our disabled son an hour before he was born.
I felt something great in him from the start. I let love flow first and let my heart speak, so that wonder and awe might pierce through reason itself.
It's impossible to choose and desire you as you are, but now I know that mystery is what gives life its meaning, as it does for every person.
It's hard to see the world through your eyes.
It's exhausting to walk slowly with your legs, to read the uncertain movement of your hands and decipher the intention in your gaze. But all you ask is that I let you live.
And when I sometimes wish I could make you run as you cannot, you whisper to me gently: "Mom, slow down. I can't keep up." Then comes joy, and you teach me what gratitude means.
Anna Maria, 2007