How do you teach your children to meet disabled children without making them uncomfortable or self-conscious?
I feel like I'm stating the obvious, but it seems to me it's quite simple for a mother to explain this to her own children. The key, for me, is just to prepare them for reality — not to say, "He's just like you; don't think about it." No. "He's a special child. Be kind to him. Watch how his mother treats him, or how I do. Just be yourself."
I try never to suggest that questions are off-limits, that explanations can't be asked for. I let them ask — afterward. I don't want to create a taboo: "We don't talk about this, we don't look, it doesn't exist."
When they meet a new friend, my children naturally ask: "What do you like to do? What school do you go to? Why do you walk like that? Throw me the ball!" — things they'd normally ask any child. I've taught them to ask me these questions instead of his mother, since she's surely answered them a hundred times already and it wouldn't be considerate to ask again.
I have to say that often now it's my own children who teach me something. They're more spontaneous than we adults are. They know how to treat everyone with simplicity and affection. Sometimes they're so natural about it that they actually forget the disability altogether — so they get impatient, walk away, get bored, just as they do with any other friend.
We adults can't manage that kind of simplicity.
With my older children, the conversation goes deeper: "What's the difference between me and a disabled child in the eyes of God? None. In fact, he's worth more than I am. Who is more worthy to receive the Lord than they are?"
They came to that conclusion on their own.
— Francesca, 1975