A Child’s Path
Experiencing Human Warmth and Joy in a Mysterious World
Our Roro is one such child. When she was born, her warning sign was a crying infant. Her parents, with their limited time and energy, could do little but let her cry, unsure how to respond. At first, we didn’t fully understand her condition and assumed she was just a premature baby, hoping it was a passing phase. Only later did we come to realize that her crying wasn’t because she was hungry or tired, but because of an overwhelming, unfounded fear. She couldn’t make sense of things; she had no sense of security and was completely lost. So, she cried. When Roro turned three, the crying was replaced by a quiet soul and a sweet smile. Though she still made no sound and couldn’t speak, she radiated calm. One beautiful spring day, her grandparents took her to the park to play, and she was incredibly happy. Her mother later said that night; it felt as if she heard Roro’s laughter in her dreams. Her mother cried.
Roro was different from other children. She couldn’t run, jump, throw or catch a ball. Whenever she encountered unfamiliar environments or people, she was like a frightened little bird, seeking refuge in our arms, her big eyes full of terror. She seemed to be waiting for someone to open the door to life for her, hoping she would never have to grow up.
Her grandparents loved her so much that they began endless training and teaching. Over the past five years, they’ve traveled through mountains and valleys, bays and streams, forests and gardens. Their laughter has echoed through the skies. They raced like the tortoise and the hare, playing games until the sun set. Gradually, Roro became livelier. She develops a curiosity to explore, and her body grew more agile. She learned to ski, and her coach said she skied down the mountain like a ten-year-old boy—completely at one with nature, without fear, only joy. This year, Roro is seven.
Language is complex. Communication through words requires thought, and this is one of the greatest differences between humans and animals. For Roro, language is a challenge. Nine times out of ten, she doesn’t understand what’s being said, and of course, she can’t speak. On top of that, years of limited oral and tongue movement made it difficult for her to produce sound. But her grandparents never gave up. Especially her Popo, who patiently worked through a series of steps to help her with pronunciation, and Roro, took a genuine interest. Her Gong Gong often stood by, amazed, constantly praising his wife for her incredible efforts. When Roro first learned to recognize words and read them aloud to her Popo, her Popo cried.
On the internet, there’s a voice from a special needs child: “Although we are different, we are not frightening. Please love us.”
Roro’s grandparents thank God for bringing her into their lives. They have learned that true happiness comes from making others happy. They are content with what they have given. They understand that everyone needs love and acceptance, and they deeply realize that God’s faithfulness and great love are reflected in this. They thank God for His care and protection over the years and for His guidance. Though they do not know what the future holds, they believe that the one who holds tomorrow will also guide Roro’s hand.