The title of the blog was the song our youngest and I were singing on the way to Dallas this morning. Why were we headed to Dallas? Therein lies the point of this blog entry...
When we adopted our daughter, she was born with arthrogryposis, which is the technical name for bilateral wrist drop. Essentially, her arms were down by her side in the womb and her hands formed bent both downward and outward. She hasn't really missed a beat in life and can pretty much do whatever the stink she wants to do because she's determined (like her mom) and stubborn (like her dad).
But we live in a wrist-neutral world, so setting them to neutral was an option that we explored. Texas Scottish Rite Hospital for Children came across our radar and we applied for their care. They are a Masonic charity organization that cares for orthopedic cases in children up to 18. And their care is stellar. We have never been treated so well.
They have high-quality staff and volunteers there. One thing that struck Ginny and me the first time we were there was the nature of the volunteers who were there. Certainly there were older folks around. But at night, it was almost exclusively young people - collegians and young professionals. I even asked why one guy helped out. His reply? "Well, I was in the hospital a lot when I was a kid and I know what it's like. So I come by to try to make a kid's day better." He was 19. I don't know many 19-year olds who think like that. But every Friday, that guy is there.
Answering a brief objection: you don't have to be a Mason or even agree with them to receive care from TSRHC. But I am grateful that God used them to minister His mercy to my family.
If you're in the Dallas area, I encourage you to check them out. They're a worthy charity.
But that's just me thinking thoughts...
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