The World Through the Eyes of an Orphan With Special Needs

Expressing a reality I have touched.

You don’t want to look at me, but if you do, you look away — ashamed of yourself, but also disgusted with me and my ugliness. Yes, something is wrong with me. Sometimes I’m blind, other times I’m missing a finger or an arm. I limp, I’m in a wheelchair or growling instead of talking. I sway and hold my hands strangely… out of frustration that I cannot express, what’s inside me.

It hurts me that you are blind, that your heart and soul are amputated for my childish innocent dreams. I am a child like any other - I love to play, to swing, to kick a ball…

If only I could get up from the wheelchair and run. If only I could see the sun and the rainbow; to smile and show you it’s okay to caress me. It’s okay to love me, because love is the most natural feeling, that doesn’t require a full set of working senses. Like all children, I want to have a family, someone to read me a bedtime story, to kiss me on the forehead and tell me they love me.

What if I’m not perfect?! Are there ideal people? Do healthy children deserve more love than the sick? And when they get sick, do their parents stop loving them? I have many problems that are not my fault. Then why do you blame me with a look, full of coldness and disgust?

Sometimes I wish I could look at you like that too, so you understand how much it hurts to be cut off from society, without even having a chance to be happy. That’s what I want — just a chance to be myself, to blossom to the best of my ability; to develop my intellect as much as I possibly can, to limp, but to try to get out of the wheelchair, that has become my extension.

And when I grow up? Will I be allowed to study? To fall in love? To succeed in life? I can’t do it alone, you need to understand it. They left me alone with a feeling of uselessness. But I know I have something to offer the world, as long as I get out of these four walls, and live outside the hospital or the orphanage.

Give me a chance — don’t turn away. Don’t look at me with pity. I’m much stronger than most kids. I’m also stronger than most healthy adults, who are used to grumbling every day.

I know the world differently than you do. And that’s why I cherish every day I’m alive. I don’t know how much I have left, but I want to live in an environment filled with love and empathy; to see smiles in my mom and dad’s eyes; to feel that someone is proud of me. I know I can have it all. As long as someone isn’t blind And doesn’t have an amputated heart and soul.

In the period 2013–2014, I had the honor to deal with international adoptions. My role was to mediate the first contact between adoptive parents and children before finalizing the procedure. Personally, I facilitated more than 30 adoptions of children abroad and my work assisted many more.

At that time I saw suffering, a struggle for life, indescribable pain, but also joy. Most of the children up for adoption were disabled and had no chance of being adopted domestically.

Although some of them were intellectually retarded and probably could hardly comprehend the situation they were in, I am convinced that deep down they were suffering.

For over a year I saw so much loneliness in those children’s eyes. Some of the children, at the sight of their future adoptive parents, rushed to them without even knowing them because they were aware that they were their lifeline from the harsh reality. Others were embarrassed at first and needed time to trust, especially as they had been abandoned by their biological parents.

I loved those kids. I loved their struggle and desire for life. I loved the way they expressed their purest childlike impulses. I remember once being at a home for abandoned children, escorting a blind girl to a swing. I rocked her and spoke lovingly to her, and she laughed loudly as if this was the funniest thing that had ever happened to her.

Another time I was standing by the bedside of a 17-year-old girl who had a severe form of cerebral palsy and could neither speak nor move. But what eyes she had! She said so much with them! I began to tell her sweetly how beautiful she was and to caress her hand, and she kept thanking me with her eyes. It was one of the most meaningful conversations I’ve ever had in my life.

Now, the adopted children hardly remember about their life in their homeland. Maybe it’s for the best. They blossom in their families who care for and love them. Many of the children who were said to be terminally ill overcame the intractable with the power of love.

Children with special needs need to be heard. The parents of these children who have chosen the difficult path of caring for them, despite their lack of experience, also deserve support.

Different countries deal with this issue differently, but unfortunately, there are always children who will never have anyone to say ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’ to. I wrote this poem for these children in the hope that, if not here and now, then in another time and space, they will receive the love they originally deserved.

And I remain grateful for this period of my life, as it has taught me to look not at what a person lacks, but at everything else they possess as qualities. We all have defects and if we help each other, we can live in a world where they don’t seem so scary. Like pieces of a puzzle, we can shake hands and communicate without hating and second-guessing our differences.

I feel tremendous gratitude and admiration for the families who traveled halfway around the world to create new lives for these orphaned children. Regardless of their motives, they are good and noble people with brave and loving hearts.

The next time you look at your child, whether healthy or sick, be thankful to have them. It is your greatest gift in this life. Try to be worthy of it. You will be wrong many times, but never give up trying to be a good parent.

Some give up early without even trying, leaving behind a million shattered childhood dreams. Don’t be like them. See the world differently. Don’t have an amputated heart and soul.

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