Thursday, April 15, 2010
How God Chooses the Parents of Children with Type 1 Diabetes
I found this a while ago on a group I am a part of and just had to share. It made me cry but it's so precious. It's taken from the poem "The Special Mother" by Erma Bombeck
Did you ever wonder how parents of children with diabetes are chosen?
Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, He instructs his Angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
“Brands, Tim and Heather, a daughter. Patron Saint Audrey”
“Bickleys, Sid and Ellen, a daughter. Patron Saint Caroline”
“Kitchens, David and Laura, a daughter. Patron Saint Lauren”
Finally, He passes a name to an Angel and smiles. “Give them a child with diabetes.” The Angel is curious. “Why this one, God? They are so happy.” “Exactly”, smiles God. “Could I give a child with diabetes to a mother and father who do not know laughter? That would be cruel.”
The Angel asks, “But have they the patience?” “I don’t want them to have too much patience, or they will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair”, God replied. “Once the shock and resentment wears off, they’ll handle it. I watched them today. They have that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a parent.
You see, the child I am going to give them has her own world. They have to make it their world and that’s not going to be easy.” God smiles. “This family is perfect. They have just enough selfishness”. The Angel gasps. “Selfishness? Is that a virtue?” God nods. “If they cannot separate themselves from the child occasionally, they will never survive. Yes, this is the family I will bless with less than perfect. They do not realize it yet, but they are to be envied.
I will permit them to see clearly the things I see…ignorance, cruelty, prejudice…and allow them to rise above them. They will never be alone. I will be at their side every minute of every day of their life because they are doing my work as surely as if they are here by my side.” “And what of their Patron Saint?” asks the Angel, his pen poised in mid-air. God smiles. “A mirror will suffice.”