An author who has had numerous children's book published sent this to me. It is so beautifully written that I asked her if I could publish it here. She generously agreed to let me share it with you, my readers. The author's name is Wendy White.
A video has been going around on social media. It’s a video of a small baby boy being held by his mother. The father is filming. They sit in a doctor’s office. The child is deaf.
His face is lifeless; blank. His eyes are heavy and his little head looks away from his mother, drooping a little. He seems . . . surrendered.
He is held tenderly, and he is most certainly loved beyond any measure. And though he is surrounded by love and support, he is alone in a prison of silence. This is evident on his dull, still expression.
Then the voice of the doctor to the father: “Are you ready? Are you filming?”
“Here we go. I’m going to turn on his hearing device now.”
Immediately, the baby’s head jerks in reaction to sound assaulting his silent world for the very first time.
His mother begins to speak to him, cooing at him gently.
The child’s face animates. His eyes grow wide and alert. A huge smile stretches across his little face.
He is resuscitated by the voice of love greeting him.
Watching the video gave me both great pleasure and deep sadness.
Here was a real demonstration of an innocent child before and after the ability to hear. Before, he seemed detached and remote. I could not help but think with empathy of those who live in a silent world.
But then the great joy: seeing him come to life when sound was introduced to him – it is a stunningly beautiful human moment. What a miracle that he was plucked out of his isolated world.
And then, the mirror.
I recognized in the child my own quiet isolation; a glazed-over weariness brought on by afflictions that have silenced me: barrenness, betrayal, divorce, stilled dreams. I have felt alone many times, but all the while, I was being held by my Caretaker.
And then, the voice.
The ‘sound’ of ‘recognizing’ jolted me to life. Insight was the voice of my Caretaker calling me away from the silence; speaking to me of new life.
And now that I hear, I will listen.
© 2013 Wendy White