The Promise He Made When We Were Children
I was eight years old when I first realized that kindness could be selective.
People were kind to me without thinking about it. Teachers smiled when I raised my hand. Other children invited me into games. Adults asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.
My younger sister, Lily, had to earn the same kindness simply by walking into a room.
Lily was seven then. She had Down syndrome, a round face that brightened whenever she laughed, and a habit of remembering every promise anyone ever made to her.
Unfortunately, she also remembered every cruel word.
Children sometimes whispered about her on the playground. A few laughed at the way she spoke when she became excited. Others treated her as though she couldn’t understand them simply because she needed more time to answer.
I became her defender before I The Promise He Made When We Were Children
