A Mother's Heart

Yesterday, when I finished my morning walk and sat down again at my computer, I noticed the message light flashing on the answering machine. I pushed the button to hear my youngest son, my little one, who had called while I was out tell me of his plans for Sunday. I call him my "little one" although he's turned 32 this year. To me, he'll always be the little guy partly because with his developmental handicap, he is still in many ways a child. But mostly because of where he falls in the family lineup.


When we adopted him, he was five--a little too old to be called a baby for one thing. The other reason we had for labeling him our little one was that his older brother, soon to be the middle child, didn't want to lose his status as "our baby." It was a good compromise and makes them both loved for who they are.


At five our little one couldn't talk. He communicated with sounds, pointed fingers, and lots of smiles. He still smiles a lot today. His smile has endeared him to many hearts. His words, and he has many of them, are endearing as well. His language is simple. His talk often stuttered but his humor and his care for others never faulter.


"Mom," he said on the taped message. " I hate to disappoint you but I cannot go to dinner on Sunday with you and Dad."


I hate to disappoint you. It was a phrase I hadn't heard him use before. A grownup-adult-socially correct phrase. My little one is still growing. Still maturing. Still learning. All of this despite what others consider a handicap.


But then in my mother's heart, I look at my other sons. They too are still growing and maturing. Still learning. The lessons are a little harder now as they have responsibilities of family and work but they all continue to make this mother's heart leap with joy and pride--no matter where in the world she may be traveling.