Image by Christiane from Pixabay

Today is Sunday.

You noticed.

You noticed a patch of sunlight that fell out of nowhere and streams across the kitchen floor. Down on your knees, you try to hold it in your outstretched fingers. You feel its warmth. Still, it fades, but still you noticed. Do you wonder, where it has gone? 

You noticed the ornamental grass billowing softly. With the lightest of touches your outstretched hand felt its gentle caress. ‘May green‘ plumes that sway and bow with the wind. I marvel at how they do not break or snap under pressure from the next, unpredictable gust, no matter how far they bend. I am jealous of their resilience. I planted this for you last summer, it is there by design, as are you. And you have noticed.

You noticed the coarseness of the brickwork. At the side of the house; a passageway the rest of us routinely hurry on through. There is nothing to marvel at here; no plants, no colour, not even a blade of grass. Just bricks that form a wall, against which we discard our rubbish. You stand there, outstretched arms guide your faltering, supported steps until you find your spot. 

The same spot as you found yesterday and have returned to today. Sunday.

You have noticed something there the rest of us cannot see. I am looking. Briefly, I look but I cannot see. Yet you can. Even with the poorest of vision, through dense and clumsy lenses, your clouded view of this world is still clearer than mine.

We cannot see what you see.

We cannot see because we cannot feel. The way you do. Arms, fingers, toes all outstretched and full of questions. Taking untold risks for the greatest of discoveries. Knowing so very little, you learn so very much.

What if you never climb the heights of Everest, or study Botany to gain a degree? Your experiences, your learning, is not confined to these worthy pursuits. I have this joyous, delightful feeling that you have noticed more on a Sunday in May than all the world’s explorers, scientists, adventurers, academics and me.

The world of you is noticed.

This glorious, marvellous, painful and dangerous world that has within its lifetime, a whole Month of Sundays, likely more.

And they are noticed by me.

#downsyndrome #downssyndrome