MC is a seizure patient of ours who cannot walk. When I first met his mom a few months ago, she asked for a wheelchair because he was getting too heavy for her to carry.
Thanks to good friends at a church in the States, MC is now on seizure meds and has been seizure-free for several months. He also now has a beautiful wheelchair.
The day we gave MC the wheelchair was bittersweet. We settled him in, made sure that his mom knew how to adjust the seatbelt and lock the wheels. Then we took it outside for a trial run. After a moment, his mother looked up at me and said, "You're giving me a wheelchair for my son. Does this mean he will never be able to walk?" And then she burst into tears.
A parent crying over a handicapped child seems normal, but for Haiti, it isn't. I see children with serious illnesses and handicaps every day here and I almost never see parents cry. I'm not implying that children are not loved in Haiti; I'm simply saying that in the ghetto, things like sickness and physical handicaps are much more accepted and crying is not often the cultural response. So to see this beautiful young woman crying about her son was a rare and painful occurence.
We hugged his mother, encouraged her and then we prayed for MC, for his legs specifically. I believe that he has enough muscle and neurological capacity that he could walk someday, with the right help. Or that God could heal him. Isn't that what the Bible says?
We continue to pray for MC's healing. We continue to do therapy on his legs. But the bittersweet taste is gone. He will walk someday, and until that day comes, I'm happy to watch him and his wheelchair fly.