Normal

My mother volunteered at the Cerebral Palsy Center. She loved the children and they loved her. She would play with them for hours. Sometimes she would take me with her. I faked every kind of illness to get out of it. Those kids scared me.

Once a year they would pile the children into yellow busses and take them to the circus. One time I went along to help out. One time.

These kids weren’t what I’d call normal. They looked and acted different than any of my friends. They wore braces to walk; some wore helmets and gloves so they wouldn’t hurt themselves. They jerked; they talked loud and laughed most of the time. I couldn’t understand what they were saying to me. The harder I listened the less I understood. Sirens were going off in my head. I felt stupid. They touched me without warning. They pulled on me. They hugged me. They tore my shirt. I yelled at them and made them cry.

Naturally, we had front row seats under the Big Top. When the clowns came in the kids exploded. Anyone sitting nearby eating and drinking ran for cover. I watched our kids more than the circus. They were becoming the greatest show on earth.

They didn’t hold anything back. They were natural in a peculiarly human way. Like when the lions scared them, they screamed. When the trapeze artist fell, they pointed and cried. When little trick dogs jumped onto the backs of beautiful white horses they shrieked, jumped and waved their arms like windmills. I wanted them to tone it down. I wanted the strangers around us to be comfortable. I did the same thing in restaurants to my daughters when they were just children being children.

Something else. They were contagious. I started laughing instead of chuckling. I even shrieked a couple of times! I didn’t realize the circus was such a magic rollercoaster.

I don’t know what “normal” is, God knows I don’t, but I believe these rare children are closer to God’s idea of normal than we are. We are the disabled ones. We disable our hearts so we won’t hurt too much, or be too disappointed. We control our laughter so nothing comes out our nose. We dance better drunk.

I wasn’t tempted to run away and join the circus that day. I was tempted to run away with them.