Small things

The last week has reminded of many precious small things – saying “I love you,” arms of a toddler reaching up at you to be picked up, laughter, and bottles of Heinz catsup.

What a treat, last week meeting a young handsome software representative.  Dan has dark eyes and wisdom beyond his years.  As his story unraveled, I understood why. 

His mom was Vietnamese.  I jokingly asked if any of his relatives owned nail salons, to which he laughed, “As a matter of fact, my uncle does.  He was an attorney, but he makes more money owning a nail salon.”

Back to his story…  His mother is the oldest of sixteen children.  His parents met during the Vietnam War.  At that time the CIA was recruiting high school seniors who spoke English to translate for them during interrogations.  His father asked to marry her, but she declined.  Later, she re-thought and accepted.  She came to America and worked for the government.  After the fall of Saigon, his father, because of his military connections, was able to sneak her entire family out.  His father’s friend knocked at the home of his mother’s parents, and was met by two brothers pointing guns in his face.  As soon as they saw it was a U.S. military man rather than the Vietcong, they lowered their weapons.  They were told to gather what they could, and that he’d return in two hours.  The whole family was loaded onto a flatbed truck, carrying bags of what they had grabbed.  They were covered in blankets, laying under a layer of machinery.  The American military was allowed to cross over the border at that time to leave the country.  The family was airlifted out in a smaller plane, sitting four deep in their seats. 

Dan was raised with twenty-five people in his home.  His brother, and two uncles, slept in a bed in the corner of a room.  And I complain when my husband steals the covers.

But his story of gaining wisdom did not end there.  He’s now he’s a young father with three boys six and under, two with autism.  Just months ago while expecting their third son, the second son was diagnosed.  He moved his young family here a year ago to seek better treatment for his young sons.

I was reminded of a trial years ago triggered by my youngest son’s behavior.  I wondered how I could possibly learn anything from it…  Yet I did.

Cheezy had made a poor decision, and for his lack of wisdom received a DUI.  I was so angry.  There didn’t seem to be a lot of positive tete-a-tete going on between us those days.  One positive thing in his life was a good part time job with the Anaheim School District.  He was a classroom assistant in the Special Education department.  But his driver’s license was suspended for six months.  In order for him to hold onto this job, I would have to take him to work and pick him up.  This was not something I wanted to do with my full schedule.  Mostly I didn’t want to be in the same car with him. 

But each day, waiting for him to come out of the classroom, I saw this tall six-foot-three young man in a different light.  I watched him take these young children in his arms or by the hand.  He would playfully toss them on the bus for their long journey home, and blow kisses to them.

I am thankful for the small lessons learned during hard times.  I was able to proudly tell Dan about my son’s personal journey…  now enrolled in college to one day work more with these special children.

Here is what Cheezy, years ago wrote about one of the little giants he cared for:

I never thought that such a small person as Denise could make such a big influence in my life and inspire me in so many ways.  I may have been the teacher while working with Denise, but she taught me so much more than I could ever teach her in the two years I was blessed to have worked with her.  The biggest lesson she taught me is that no matter what bad thing may happen in life, you can always find a way to push through it.  She was also my main inspiration to go back to school because after working with her I realized that I wanted to teach special education.  Denise may only stand three feet tall, but she is armed with a smile that could warm the coldest of hearts, these big brown eyes that could pierce the darkest of clouds, and a heart so big that there is nothing I could put down on paper to explain it.  Some people would say that I would overreact when people who call Denise a cute little boy, as she always had a little boy hair cut, but it was only because in some way I thought they were teasing her.  I miss the times when Denise and I would take our walks together as she would go nowhere without me.  I will be honest with you, I did not want her to go anywhere without me either.  Even though she may not be able to understand the simple things in life that I seem to take advantage of, yet she has such a strong understanding for what is important in life.  She was always happy in the two years I spent with her, and she did all she could to make sure the people she cared about felt the same way.  I do not know if I will ever be able to explain the effect Denise has had on my life.  All I do know is she is one person I am lucky to have met and I will never forget her.

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