You know that feeling.
When you drive by streets and glimmers of red, green, and yellow fill street posts and houses, reminding us that the season to be jolly; that it’s the time of the year when our innermost child-like selves feel giddy. Yes, that feeling of safety and comfort, sipping hot chocolates in our cozy beds and couches, in a place we call home around beloveds and persons who care for us. That feeling of happiness and warmth, dancing around lights, eating the best food, or simply holding a special someone’s hand.
But, this little thread you’re reading isn’t about that holiday feeling at all.
Every year, my mother and her friends organize a Christmas outreach program where they go to a home for children as young as a year old, diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy, Hydrocephalus, and other mental and physical disabilities. Most do not have a home. Some lost. Some casted off. Most of them don’t even survive 20 years. When I saw all of the children, innocent and ignorant of this world, heard their stories and how they got there, I was absolutely broken-hearted.
- a sensation experienced through sense.
- an emotional state of reaction.
I was able to see a part of their lives and a part of mine through a burst of feelings, prickling my skin from the inside out, screaming that they did not deserve this.
Why are they here?
What did they do?
I don’t know the feeling of being abandoned , and left on my own. I don’t know I don’t know the feeling of being discriminated against because I am differently-abled. I don’t know the feeling of not being able to run, climb, swim.
Do you know that feeling?
This little thread you’re reading may not be about the holiday feeling at all. It’s about the spirit of giving—the feeling of hope and light, intangible yet precious—in small ways magnified in our lives. We learn to love by sharing the feeling with other people, by sharing pieces of ourselves with them. So when I drive by streets and glimmers of red, green, and yellow fill street posts and houses, they remind me that yes, ‘tis the season to be jolly, but ‘tis also the season to be grateful in all ways, in every sensation and state, hopeful that when I reach out and hold a child’s hand, s/he can feel something light too.