Dear CLS Friends,
More reflections from the Lexington Jr. League Horse Show ...
I could see a boy in the pool through the glass door, but he wouldn't let us in. We knocked again. He stared back and grinned. When his mother let us into the indoor pool at the Holiday Inn Express, I realized he was a Down's Syndrome child.
I wheeled around to give my "Now you children be nice and include that boy" speech. But Cashlyn and her friend had skinned off their shorts and kirplopped themselves in the pool before I could utter a full sentence.
As kids in new places do, they sheepishly sized each other up. Cashlyn and her friend, Scotty (another rider showing in Lexington whom Cashlyn had befriended), tried not to notice the boy noticing them. Unabashed, this boy stared directly at them and smiled. As I rose to give my Be Kind and Inclusive speech, I stopped short.
Cashlyn and Scotty were patting the water, sending ripples to the boy. The boy patted the water, and rippled back to them. Their laughter ricocheted off the heavy, chemical-laced pool air, transforming the moment's awkwardness into airy fun. Next, the threesome launched a water-splashing battle that left both us mammas soaked. We laughed together with relief.
Her son's name is Andrew. Her family lives in Minnesota, and they were visiting Lexington, KY for an antique car show. Whenever they travel the country indulging her husband's hobby, she always books hotels with pools. Andrew loves the water.
"Your children are so good with him," she said. "Most of the time, children either ignore him altogether, or treat him like a piranha."
We looked up to see Cashlyn on one side of Andrew, Scotty on the other. They were all holding hands, standing beside the deep end. One! Two! Three! Cashlyn and Scotty jumped. Andrew threw his hands forward, but his feet never left the tile. When my two erupted from the water and realized they had been tricked, they hollered laughing! Andrew was a trickster.
He also was scared to jump into the pool. By the time we left that pool, nearly two hours later, Cashlyn and Scotty had cajoled, and pleaded, and encouraged, and clapped, and called "You can do it" so much that I thought they would cry if Andrew didn't learn to jump. When he finally let loose and belly flopped into the water, they rushed to him, shocked and scared to death.
Are you OK, Andrew? Are you hurt, Andrew? Andrew dropped his head, sputtered a cough and then smiled. "I fine. Do 'gin! Do gin!"
And so they did it again. Over and over. Laughing and jumping and splashing.
I finally dragged my kids out of the pool. Cashlyn and Scotty were both set to show that evening in the first class of the horse show, and they needed to get dressed to ride. As I explained, Andrew started bawling.
"Now he knows what it feels like to play with friends in a pool," said Andrew's Mama. "He doesn't want it to end."
Scotty won the class at the horse show that night. Cashlyn got some colored ribbon, maybe white or green. I didn't remember five minutes after the class was over.
But for a long, long time, I will remember those children with Andrew, showing him what it feels like to play with friends in a pool. Two good kids, whose love of horses brought them to the same place at the same time. And the horses, I truly believe, have helped both kids -- who are from very different walks of life -- to develop kind, loving, nonjudgemental hearts.
Maybe that's corny. And maybe I'm a sap. But my afternoon at that Holiday Inn pool was the highlight of my 2011 Lexington Jr. League Horse Show. Heck, who am I kidding? It was one of the highlights of my life.
Parker
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