Ears for Valentine’s Day
Jason is a four-year-old boy who was born deaf. As a speech pathologist I am training him in the communication of sign language.
“Do that again, Mommy. Would ya?” questioned the voice of Doug. “I really like to watch you do sign.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Then maybe you and Katie can learn some of it and we can all do it together. You help me say the words, but not real fast.”
Yes, wherever I go
And whatever I do …
At Valentine’s Day time
And on other days too …
Inside my heart
I keep warm thoughts of you.
“That was really good. Now how about learning some of the signs to go along with it? We can learn a little bit each day and then put it all together by Valentine’s Day.”
“Does Jason always have to use sign-language, Mommy? Can’t he talk and sign like we can?” inquired Katie who was five.
“Yes, Jason does always use sign and he’s trying to talk. But ya know what? He’s good at it and he likes to use it. The other day he told me about his new ‘Green Machine’ and how he likes to go up and down all of the hills with it.”
“I sure would like to give Jason something for Valentine’s Day. Maybe a big box of candy,” suggested Katie.
“Well I have an idea,” chimed in seven-year-old Doug. “We could get Jason a new set of ears for Valentine’s Day. Then he could hear and talk and sing.”
“Wow, that would sure be great, Doug,” I commented. “But ya know we can’t replace our ears or any part of our body like that. God made us the way He wanted to and some things just can’t be changed.”
“Well then, I’m really mad at him.”
“Who are you so mad at, Doug?” I questioned.
“At God!” he said firmly. “I’m mad at God because He made Jason deaf. That wasn’t nice of Him. Was it mom?”
“I don’t always understand either Doug and Katie. God makes everybody special and in doing that we are all just a little bit different. No one is just like anyone else. But then we wouldn’t want to be just alike. Some people wear glasses because their eyes are different. Some of us are short and some are tall. Some are …”
“Yes, but He didn’t have to make our friend so that he will never hear,” interrupted Katie.
“But you’re forgetting that Jason is very lucky. God also gave him many fine things in his world.”
“What?” was the unanimous question.
“First of all, God made Jason just the way He wanted him. God is just as happy about Jason as He is about you. Then God gave Jason a good brain to think and one to be able to use sign-language.”
“He made his hands too. That helps Jason sign,” observed Katie.
“You’re right. There are many more things that God gave Jason than what He didn’t give him.”
“He’s got his eyes to see and his feet to walk. Did God make those too?” questioned Doug.
“He sure did. God is really pretty good after all, I think.”
“Me too,” said Katie.
“I guess so,” was Doug’s still uncertain reply.
That night as we said our prayers, Doug wanted to add something special, “And, God,” he prayed, “I still don’t know why You had to make Jason deaf, but thank you for making him my friend.”
Doug and Katie have never met Jason. They know him only through my relationship with this special child. Perhaps we could have prayed for “new ears” for Jason, but somehow I felt that the answers would not be found there but rather through the special magic of unseen friends. God’s true power—works silently.