Invisible child

This needed to be written today.  I’ve no idea why.  Hope it makes sense.  Here goes:

invisible child

A client

A case

A patient

A statistic

A budget

A diagnosis

A Service user

A name on a database

 

And to some, you are invisible.

 

But you are none of those, child.  Always try and remember that.

 

The pubescent boy, desperate to attain recognition, especially from his father; he doesn’t see your little face through the window; doesn’t wish to see the fellow human being contented just to watch the world go by; fascinating shapes and colours whizzing past your eyes.

All he sees is a convenient opportunity to assert a transient alpha male status; to demonstrate his authority amongst those current disciples of his, whilst they dawdle in a pack approaching the school gate.

Constantly and secretly guarding his own insecurities, he takes the opportunity to make those disparaging remarks and gestures at that bus going to that place.  Wholly confident that he’ll always be immune to vulnerability.  He’ll never be one of them. He’s strong, important, worthy…and entirely ignorant to the fact that no-one, even he, will ever be awarded immunity.

He laughs, they laugh.  They are the sheep and he is the momentary shepherd.  His status is safe for now.  He’s earned his badge of honour today at the expense of others.  Demeaning the vulnerable is praiseworthy.

To him you’re nothing.  Just something to mock.  You’re invisible to him, child.

But little does he know that you’re immune to this despicability.

Actually, he’s the one needful of the most pity; his parents have never taught him empathy.

Perhaps, one day, should karma tap him on the shoulder and whisper in his ear “who’s next?”, he’ll have forgotten about those times.

 

 

Crowds of people.

Rush, rush, rushing.  On they go.  Criss-crossing the pavements like busy worker ants.

Must get there.  Have to get that.  They need it, deserve it.

Wrapped up in their protective bubbles.

They don’t see you, they don’t want or need to see you.  They can purposely avoid eye contact when necessary.

Circumventing the contagious.

They brush past your wheelchair, their shopping bags swinging precariously close to your face. Any closer and they’ll catch you.

You’re invisible to them, child. 

You’re an obstacle in their way.  A hindrance.  A second wasted to hold a door open.  A millisecond squandered to make room on a congested footpath.  That time could’ve been spent more productively on their phone; taking selfies, seeking likes and admiration.

They’ll look through you or they’ll gawp.  But there are a minority who stop, who give a genuine smile, who take time to connect.

I fear though that compassion is on its knees and almost dead.  Viva indifference!

The majority don’t see you…

…but they’ll see the disabled parking space provided for someone who needs it most and they take it, without shame.

…they see the disabled public toilet and they take it.

…they see the lift that saves them time rather than taking the stairs…and they’ll take it.

And to them child, you are invisible. 

Ah, but if only they aspired to be like you:  accepting, kind, courageous, tenacious and SO much more.

The world would be a better place!

 

 

But to others you’re not invisible.  To others you are…

A smile that brightens up the gloomiest of days

A song in someone’s heart

The reason to live

Everything

…A beautiful, glorious and unique individual who is loved.  SO loved.

Worthy of being seen; of being given the opportunity to shine.

Child, you’re not invisible.  You never were and you never will be…not to the people who love and care for you.  Never invisible to the people that matter ❤

 

This entry was posted in Miscellaneous, Parenting, Syndromes/Special Needs and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Invisible child

  1. MS says:

    Oh I love love LOVE this. You forgot to mention that Hannah is also a Champion Alpaca Wrangler. On on Mrs B, on ON xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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