My Special Children

I was asked to write something,

About my “Special Child”

A song, a poem, an article,

Something touching, while inspired.

I sat down and considered,

This small work, that I was to create,

Did I really have to do this?

Must I really co-operate?

It may hurt, I reasoned,

I won’t like this at all.

Yet, you’ll never walk upright,

If you’re too scared to fall.

So, I turned on my computer,

And sat right down to type.

Im lo achsav eimasai?¹

I hoped the time was ripe.

I sat down and considered,

My little children, three.

Each one special, each one sweet,

In short, my family.

Each one of them is different,

From the other ones.

And though this may sound fluffy,

I am not making fun.

The Torah does teach us,

That we are each unique.

Bishvili nivrah ha’olam ²

Of each of us does speak.

We do not get to choose,

Whether we’ll be strong or weak

Nor if we will be lecturers,

Or never learn to speak.

We, of many faces,

Have many different traits

They were not of our choosing,

But, largely up to fate.

We live here in a world

That removes the weakest links,

Yet, when we create a tiny hole,

Everybody sinks.

We all are “special children”

To our father up above.

Each one with a special task,

Through which we serve with love.

Not one of us is asked,

To do something we can’t do,

And none of us is asked,

To be Moshe Rabeinu.³

To compare our talents to another’s,

Is a waste of time,

For you need yours for your own task

And I need mine for mine.

So when I sit down to consider,

My little children, three

They all are special and unique,

They are my family.

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