Well, while admiring my own bad self in pixels in Instapundit, I notice a link to a story about hospital time with a child, and as a parent, can’t help but follow it to a brilliant quote:

There is a particular radiant serenity that is immediately apparent in the countenance and bearing of the parents of critically and chronically ill children. After spending time with others who are in the clutches of what is almost universally acknowledged as the most indescribably horrible human experience, I come away feeling that I have been in the presence of God.

And it’s an amazing coincidence, but something happened that made me think just this today…the Littlest Guy had t-ball today (baseball for kids who are too little to play real baseball yet), and when we got to the field, a Challengers game was underway. Challengers are kids playing Little League baseball who are physically or developmentally disabled. It was quite a motley crew in wheelchairs and braces, the characteristic smile of children with Down’s syndrome…a walking embodiment of many parent’s – at least I’ll admit, my – fears.
Their game was running very late, but none of the t-ball parents had it in them to chase them off the field, so the coaches came up with some extra drills for the kids to do in the outfield, and the rest of us parents stood at the fence watching the game.
No one spoke about what we were watching; I don’t know what the other parents felt. I began by looking at the children struggling, and then remembering the relief I felt each time one of my sons was born and was pronounced fit. Then I felt bad for feeling that way, and started watching the parents.
And I know just what Katie Granju meant. There was an ease and a grace and a kind of joy that I saw in those parents which blocked everything else from my attention, and which I’m still carrying around with me and examining.
It amazes me how much I have to learn from people, and how easy it is when I just am willing to open my eyes and look.