A gift from Gift

One of the customers in our thrift store is a little girl. Her name means “gift.” Her mother brings her in a stroller.

Gift is 2½ years old. She has spent a lot of her time visiting doctors and having surgeries. Her weeks are full of bus rides and appointments.

“Her bones are short,” her mother explained.

Gift is a dwarf.

With all of the trials in her young life, some days Gift is pensive and tearful. Yet, most days, Gift faces life with a delighted grin. And she loves music. She waves her hands in the air, rolling her wrists to pretend she is dancing. And if you join her, she bursts into giggles, which is music itself.

Due to a recent operation on her spine, she is learning to walk. She still falls a lot, but that doesn’t stop her from insisting on being freed from her stroller while her mother sits down for a cup of coffee.

One day, I was folding clothes around the corner when I heard the tappity-tap of her little shoes. I turned to see that delighted grin and eyes bright with the pleasure of finding me.

Oh, Gift. People will always stare at you. People will talk about you in low tones. And your schedule may always be full of appointments and surgeries.

But, Gift, your life is precious. Keep spreading delight.

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