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Leaving the area around
Plano, Texas was the most difficult thing. I knew there was an earlier
pioneering family who had lived there with a disabled child because of the
photographs I had seen of them. They must have been great believers in
taking care of their own as well as being beloved by the people because
everything about the town was established so the person in a wheel chair
could function. The library was on a flat foundation and easy to use with
a wheelchair. The librarian gave us extra attention. She arranged for
Rhonda to receive the talking books.
In town the curbs were all
flattened at the crosswalks so it was no problem to walk with the
wheelchair.
The attitude of the people
themselves told us we were welcome. Never were we anyplace but when the
people there came over to us to say a few words, whether it was the
Laundromat, a store or a café and they would visit briefly with Rhonda..
It was hard to understand her speech at times but they ignored this. It
was not unusual for someone on the street to wave and call out, “Hello
Rhonda.”
One of the ultimate
kindnesses happened in an unusual way. Rhonda loved to shop in one of the
small department stores because everything was down low where she could
see it. The wide, spacious isles allowed her to easily maneuver her
wheelchair. I had checked my watch when we left. It was nine o’clock which
gave us plenty time to get out before they closed at nine thirty.
The next day while reading
the paper I was shocked to see that same store had been robbed the night
before at ten minutes after nine. It told that folks had to get on the
floor, face down while they cleaned out the cash register.
“They must have been
waiting in front until we and Rhonda in her wheelchair left the store.!” I
told Rod after reading the story. “Even the crooks in this town are
compassionate.”
As I reflected on this my
mind went back to the pictures I had seen in one of the public buildings
of the early day family who had the child in a wheelchair. The daughter
was in an early day chair with a ladder back. The people were dressed all
in black in clothing with a severely styled, plain look. Their white
collars were all that gave relief to their costume. The people’s faces
were quiet and they were pleasantly smiling. They all had such gentle
countenances. “What a loving family they must have been,” I thought to
myself. “And what a wonderful legacy they left to their daughter.”
Once again I found myself
grieving at having to leave such a beautiful and kind environment. It
seemed I was continually staggering forward with a load that was too heavy
to carry.
When I had to tell Mrs.
Graves we were taking Rhonda out of school to move back to Oklahoma the
tears wouldn’t stop and I was so embarrassed.
“Maybe, you will be able to
return at some point in time.” She was consoling me.
But, in my heart, I knew
there is never a way to return to what has been. |
