Josh's Light
My son's Down syndrome didn't stop him from performing with the school choir, but I was a nervous wreck.
By Sheryl AndersonGrove City, Pennsylvania
Josh had talked about this night for weeks, the night of the middle school Christmas pageant. From our seats in the auditorium, my husband and I scanned the sea of red and green clad students on the stage, looking for our oldest son. “There he is,” my husband whispered. Josh stood directly in the center of the chorus risers, smiling and neatly dressed in a new shirt and red tie. He seemed right at home among the other seventh and eighth graders.
At first glance you wouldn’t know Josh has Down syndrome. He practiced all semester with his special-ed teachers and the choir director so he could sing in the concert with the rest of the students. How would he react now that he was actually in the spotlight? He was especially excited about the last song, when each student would light a candle, one after the other. “Just wait, Mom. You’ll love it,” he promised.
All I want, I thought, is for this night to go well. Throughout his school career, Josh always had a teacher’s aide by his side. In art class, gym, lunch, someone was watching out for him. Tonight he was on his own. His special-ed teacher, sitting in front of us, turned around. “He’ll do fine, Mrs. Anderson,” she said, squeezing my hand. I smiled and thanked her. I hope she’s right, I thought. The house lights dimmed. The choir started up, and Josh’s face beamed as his voice joined the others. No one would notice one child singing a little off-key or coming in slightly late. I relaxed a bit in my seat as the kids sung their carols, their voices so young and pure.
The time came for the big finale. Candles were passed among the choir members. The song began. A student at each end of the risers lit his candle and touched the flame to the candle of the student standing next to him. Every second or so another student’s face was illuminated by candlelight. Slowly, the lit candles worked their way toward Josh. Our neighbor’s grandson, Victor, stood to his right. He lit his own candle and turned to light Josh’s.
Josh’s wick wouldn’t catch. As hard as Victor tried, Josh’s candle stayed dark. Frustrated, Victor shook his head—he was giving up. Josh’s smile faded and my heart sank. Every student sang, every face beamed through the warm glow of the candles. Except for my Josh. In this too, Lord? I cried silently. Even now he has to be singled out from all the others? I stared at the floor and tried to hide my tears.
Page 1 of 2
- ‹‹Previous
- 1
- 2 |
- Next››