“Courage. Kindness. Friendship. Character. These are the qualities that define us as human beings, and propel us, on occasion, to greatness.” -R.J. Palacio, Wonder
For the past two weeks, my younger daughter and I have been reading the book Wonder. Although my third grader is fully capable of reading it to herself, I asked her if I could read it aloud. I’m learning to give my soul what it needs, and holding a book in my hands beneath a heavy quilt next to my girl is what I need right now. I’m two weeks away from my book deadline and my soul is weary. Book writing brings emotions to the surface … mortality to the forefront … doubt to its loudest … and exhaustion to its peak. But knowing I’ll be curling up with my girl and this book at the end of an intense day of writing has carried me through.
August, the main character in Wonder, was born with a facial deformity. He is going to middle school for the first time and is faced with many obstacles. Sometimes I am unable to read August’s painful admissions about being the object of people’s curiosities and hurtful comments. That’s when I pass the book over to Avery. She takes over without missing a beat and after a few minutes, asks, “Are you okay, Mom?” I wipe away my tears and tell her it hurts my heart to see people—especially children—being mistreated, alienated, and excluded. She nods as if she understands completely and then we talk about what we just read. I can’t remember this happening with any other book she’s read, so I go with it, even if it’s time to turn off the lights.
One conversation that stood out was when August’s teacher, Mr. Browne, asked the students to name some really important things. After many great student guesses, he reveals what he believes is the most important thing of all:
“Who we are,” he said, underlining each word as he said it. “Who we are! Us! Right? What kind of people are we? What kind of person are you? Isn’t that the most important thing of all? Isn’t that the kind of question we should be asking ourselves all the time? ‘What kind of person am I?’ Learning who you are is what your are here to do.”
-R.J. Palacio, Wonder
I turned to Avery and asked, “What kind of person are you?”
She confidently said, “I am a singer. I am a guitar player. I am a Noticer.”
“Yep. Those are things you do—and do very well,” I said, “but what about who you are. Try this: I am a _________ person.”
“Oh,” she smiled, “I get it.”
She decided she was a sweet person … a kind person … a happy person … a caring person. “I am a sensitive person, too,” she admitted with a slight cringe, as if it was something that might be frowned upon. “And so are you, Mama, remember?”
Besides being sensitive, she listed off all the things she thought I was: a writer person, a helpful person, a giving person, a nature-loving person, a cat person.
“I can also be an impatient person … a worrier person … a work-too-hard person who has a hard time relaxing,” I chipped in to be honest about who I am.
She laughed. “Glad I don’t have that problem. I love to chill!”
“Maybe you will rub off on me eventually,” I said holding her close. And that is when a powerful truth written my brilliant colleague, Sandy Blackard, came to mind. I’d kept the quote in a safe place knowing I’d need it someday. Sandy wrote:
“Children act according to whom they believe they are. Helping them change their beliefs about self is the permanent solution for helping them change their behaviors. That’s why it is so important to find our children’s hidden strengths and provide them with proof of these strengths.”–Sandy Blackard, award-winning author of Say What You See
I agreed with Mr. Browne that “what kind of person am I?” was indeed one of the most important questions we can ask our loved ones and ourselves. And given Sandy’s insight, it should be revisited whenever we notice someone’s hidden strengths or an admirable quality the person might not realize he or she possesses. A few days later, I was given the perfect opportunity to do just that.
As we drove to a Saturday morning swim meet, my usual chipper younger daughter was solemn. I could see the worry on her small, round face. The night before, she learned her coach entered her in the 200-meter individual medley, consisting of two laps of butterfly, two laps of backstroke, two laps of breaststroke, and two laps of freestyle.
“No, Mama. I cannot do that,” my normal agreeable child protested fiercely the night before. “The last time I swam a 200 race I lost my breath!” she cried.
Pointing out that her coach would not put her in something he didn’t believe she could do was ineffective. So was telling her how much she’d improved since that traumatic event. Telling her I believed she could it did not help the situation either. It was apparent she believed she would stop breathing again. She believed she couldn’t do it.
As soon as we got to the meet, I told the coach about her past experience and asked if he could he talk to her.
Since the 200 I.M. was the first event of the meet, I watched eagerly as Avery went from the warm up straight to the starting block. I was thrilled. Apparently talking to her coach was exactly what she needed. She was going to do it. The next thing I knew, her head dropped and her shoulders shook. I imagined how hard it must be be to cry with goggles on. Avery backed away from the blocks. I blinked back my own tears praying she would garner the strength to overcome her fear.
Spotting the breakdown from across the pool, her coach ran over. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her tearful face. With each word he spoke, I saw her breaths steady. Avery took her place on the starting block and dove in when the buzzer sounded.
For all eight laps of the race, her coach walked up and down her lane, cheering her on. She was doing it. She was doing it. She was doing what she thought she couldn’t do.
My daughter ran up to me afterwards and told me it was one of the best race she’d ever had. “I was scared, but I am so glad I did it!” she rejoiced.
“I am so proud of you!” I said hugging her wet body to my chest. “You were so brave and your strokes were beautiful! I love to watch you swim!”
On the way home, Avery asked if we could stop and visit the homeless cats at PetsMart. This is one of our favorite past times—to pet the cats through the cages, talk to them, read their stories about how they came to be there, and wish we could adopt them all.
Normally we have the little cat room all to ourselves, but this time there was a young woman standing anxiously in front of the cages wringing her hands. “I am about to get a cat,” she offered. “I live in an apartment, and I get lonely so I am getting that one.” She pointed to the small striped male. “I already have one, but I need another. I get lonely in my apartment,” she repeated.
Reminding me of one of my precious former special education students, I was about to say something encouraging to her. However, Avery spoke first.
“That is so nice of you to rescue a cat! You must be a very nice person,” she said earnestly.
“I am going to get the one with stripes. See,” the young woman pointed again.
“Ohhh … that’s a pretty one,” Avery gushed. “He’s so lucky to have you adopt him,” she added genuinely.
“I have had five brain surgeries since I was five,” she told us. “I love cats.”
The woman’s father stepped forward and smiled at us as if to say, “thank you,” and then he ushered his daughter off to fill out the necessary paperwork.
“That girl was special like your students,” Avery said when the door closed behind us. “She will be able to take care of her new cat. She will be loving—I can tell,” she said as if to assure me that the striped cat will be well cared for.
“I was thinking the same thing,” I said. “She will pet it and feed it and it will have a wonderful life in the warm apartment,” I said happily.
“Oh no,” Avery said worriedly, “Look at the description on this one, Mama. His name is Louie. It says his owner had to go into a retirement home, and Louie’s been depressed ever since.”
Our sensitive hearts broke at the same time.
Avery began talking to Louie in gentle whispers, “Are you sad, boy? I am so sorry your owner had to leave you. I bet your owner is sad too.”
I squatted down next to her. “Remember in Wonder when August feels like an outsider? And he hears the horrible things people things say about him?” I whispered. “I think after seeing what you did so bravely at the swim meet and the way you talked so kindly to the special lady that you would speak up … that you would say, ‘That’s not okay.’ And then you might say to the hurt person, “Don’t listen to them. You have special gifts they can’t see. But I see them.”
My child smiled widely as if she heard every word I said and was letting it sink in. She then leaned in close to the cage. “Listen, Mama. Louie is purring,” she squeezed her fingers in as far as they would go, “He will make a great pet.”
Thank you, God. I thought. Thank you for teachers who dedicate their lives to asking important questions. Thank you for coaches who put their hands on shivering shoulders and say, “I believe you can.” Thank you for sensitive hearts that reach through cages to touch broken-hearted beings and see something worth saving.
Might we all be as brave.
Might we all be as accepting.
Might we all admit we’re scared but try anyway.
Might we all listen kindly to those who repeat their stories.
Might we all look into depressed eyes and see the value within.
Might we all admit our faults but love ourselves anyway.
Might we all look for the Augusts of the world and open our circle and let them in.
Might we all frequently ask ourselves, “What kind of person am I?” and then be the person this world needs the most.
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My friends, last week, I provided a 21st century lifeline for people to read or write to a child in their life. Over 100,000 people answered the call and my heart overflows with gratitude to all who participated or shared the message. I have heard from many people whose children asked them to “read it again” … children who cried deep tears of relief upon hearing those words … and teen boys who wrote a thank you note back because they could not respond without crying. Thank you to the person who cut up the paragraphs and asked if she could post them around the walls of a high school. Thank you to the woman who said, “I am wondering how I can get my mom to read this to me?” She reminded us that there is no age limit on words of love and acceptance. The 21st century lifeline is found in my second book, HANDS FREE LIFE, along with many practical ways we can provide our loved ones with internal protection in a world of distraction, pressure, and excess.
If you are interested in any of the cats in the photos below or featured in this post, feel free to message me or go to this link: PetSmart adoption. There are thousands of beautiful animals in your area waiting for a forever home. And if you choose to adopt one, please write and tell Avery & me. We would love to read a story with a happy ending. This community gives me hope. Thank you for being part of The Hands Free Revolution.
This is so, so beautiful!! Thank you for this post. It touches deep in my heart and is so inspiring and fortifying! Thank you for sharing these precious moments!
P.S. I too was a swimmer – I know how hard those races can be! The lessons I learned there (about myself) are still with me 20 years later!!
Thank you, Tammy! That means so much to me. I know I should have been working on my book instead of writing this post, but I felt compelled to share it today. It makes me feel so happy that I did when I read your comment! And love what you said about the lessons you learned from swimming!
Hi Rachel,
Reading about the bravery of your daughter and the imagery of her coach walking alongside her as she swam, made tears well up in my eyes. We all need people like that in our lives– someone who will cheer us on to be brave even when we’ve lost all courage, someone who believes in us when we don’t believe in ourselves, someone who challenges us to do what we think we cannot.
Thank you, too, for the reminder to see the beauty and good in each person, and to fight and perservere to uphold all that is good and right and beautiful.
I can’t get enough of your writing!!
Love,
Melanie
Thank you, Melanie, for taking the time to say something so meaningful and encouraging. I felt blessed to witness that moment at the pool and like you, wished that moment of bravery & support for all human beings! Thank you for mentioning your love of my writing. I really needed to hear that today.
This post was so touching. I have had so many moments in life where I wished there was someone who could whisper something to me to keep me strong. I usually appear strong on the outside, yet am shivering on the inside. Thank you to that coach for encouraging your daughter. My son, Lowell, is only 2 and a half, but I want to be as sweet and as encouraging as you are to your children.
Thank you so much.
Thank you, Millie! So glad you are a part of our community & our world.
It is so easy to notice what goes wrong instead of what goes right. I needed this reminder today, to tell my children how deeply they are valued for who they are, so much more than for what they do. This doesn’t come naturally to me yet, but I am so grateful for your words, which help and guide me as I continue to try!
Thank you for sharing the “reminder” you received from the post, Kelli! Brings awareness to us all!
So often when I read you, I read me. It is unreal how you speak the words that I feel so deeply. You are such a blessing to my life & to so many others.
Thank you, Cami. What a comforting message you have given me. I am grateful for you.
I find all of your posts thoughtful and meaningful, but today’s post brought tears to my eyes. I am overwhelmed by your and Avery’s kindness and compassion. Thank you for instilling these qualities in your children and for sharing your life and lessons with us. Wow.
The image you portrayed so beautifully of your sweet daughter bowed over in fear and tears really pulled my heart strings causing me to cry as well. But then the happiness of her success, the sweetness of her reaching out to others, the joy of an adult cat finding a new home and, in the process, a sweet soul finding some respite from loneliness all came together to change my tears into smiles. I visit the Petsmart kitties, as well, wishing I could adopt them all.
You are an earth angel. May you take deep breaths when the anxiety of your book deadline overcomes you. May you believe in your heart and soul that many people need your healing words. May you sleep soundly knowing that your work has changed my life, my family’s life and so many other lives out there. With each blog post and with every page I turn in the Hands Free Life book, I say a prayer of gratitude to you my earth angel.
I recommend ‘Wonder’ to everyone … phenomenal book!! Lovely post.
I love that Louis was purring. He understood the kindness of your words.
I read Wonder to my 7yo autistic son, and it was a great platform to discuss feelings and how we should and shouldn’t treat others. Such a lovely book. He isn’t reading yet, so I didn’t have the luxury of handing off the hard parts to him to read (such a great idea), but read through the tears. The second Wonder book is even more tear-filled, with some hard parts about Nazi Germany that came on fast. The bully goes and stays with his grandmother in France, and in telling her about his issues with Auggie, she relates to him a story from her childhood which leads him to a turning point, so it’s meaningful, but brought up a subject I wasn’t quite ready to know how to discuss. We got through it, though. Amazing books. We also got the 3rd book, the collection of platitudes from the students. Such a great idea to make the conversation about who you are and what “rules” work in your life a continuing one.
On reading through tears, I just finished reading to Jake the 7 Harry Potter books, and cried through many of them. My ninth time through, his first. We are now reading Fantastic Beasts in preparation for that movie coming in the fall. Watching each HP movie after each book was a great way to check for comprehension (did that happen that way in the book? no? what did happen? why do you think this was done differently?) and discuss different people’s understandings of the same text.
I love the kitty visits! We have two brother cats we adopted from the SPCA, Simon and Jack, they are such loves. Adopted them at 9months and now they’re 12 years old. Then my friend Paula died last January, and she was a great rescuer of feral cats and had four of her own. Her sister adopted 2 of her cats, and we adopted the other two, half-siblings named Sarabi (age 11) and Zuma (age 9). They integrated well with our boy cats and kids, hiding under the couch a lot (going from a single female owner to a family is a big change!), but over time have started letting my 5yo daughter hold them. Sweet beautiful, Sarabi girl got cancer, had two surgeries, but left us this January on the year anniversary of Paula’s passing and we are so sad. We think Paula wanted her kitty. Zuma is doing better than expected, getting through his mourning period by spending more time with Jack and Simon and in our laps.
Oh Rachel, your words have once again convinced me that we would be BFFs if you lived in my home town! (; In all seriousness, I cried my way through that post about your sweet girl and that amazing swim coach! And then I started relating your post to my life raising triplet girls who are also in 3rd grade. Your words reminded me what I sometimes forget to remind myself….that as frustrating as my days may be, I have three different “types” of people (who happen to be born minutes apart) and how important it is to appreciate each of my girls’ character traits, abundant and different as they are.
Thank you for reminding us all that parenthood is a journey and there are amazing experiences each and every day…
I can’t wait to talk to my trio after school and ask them what kind of person they are.
Looking forward to your next book! The first two have changed my life.
With gratitude,
Harriet
PS: we love going to visit the cats at Petsmart too! We adopted one last September. My girls are going to volunteer (helping with the cats) this summer. (Your store may have this program also). (:
Rachel, you should not be allowed to include photos of animals in your posts. The combination of those sweet faces with your compassionate words is simply too much. 😉 Kidding, of course. Just trying to wipe away the tears along with everyone else!
I loved how you interwove the stories of Avery’s experiences at the swim meet and at PetSmart. In doing so, you showed different sides of her character, illuminating both her courage and her compassion.
When I used to work with adults with special needs at L’Arche, it gradually became clear to me that the way people responded to them out in public actually had very little to do with the individuals with special needs. Rather, it had to do with how others felt about themselves.
For example, one day I was at Starbucks with a friend I’ll call Miguel, who has special needs and uses a wheelchair. As is his custom, Miguel offered his hand to everyone who passed close-by our table. “Shake-a-hand?” he’d say. And everyone smiled back at him and gave him their hands … until one man didn’t.
Miguel extended his hand, beaming up at the businessman in his nice suit. The man stared coldly back, taking in only Miguel’s wheelchair, his missing teeth and his obvious “disability”. I wish I could say believe that he was just in a hurry or oblivious or something, but that’s not what I witnessed. Instead, I sensed that he knew exactly what he was doing, that his rejection was purposeful. As he turned away, Miguel’s hand stayed out, but his smile fell.
I felt such fury in that moment. I wondered, “How could he?” It was only later that I realized: that man, insensitive though he was, had something valuable to teach me. He taught me that a lack of compassion for others is a lack of compassion for oneself.
In rejecting Miguel’s hand, he was rejecting himself. He was acting out of fear … fear that, in coming into contact with Miguel, he’d somehow compromise his carefully-constructed façade. He was afraid that if he acknowledged Miguel with kindness, he’d lose something. For whatever reason, he was afraid to let his heart shine through.
Rachel, you given your daughters (and the world!) a beautiful example of what it means to let your heart shine through.
Love,
Caroline
Dear Rachel, thank you so so much for sharing your words with us. You never fail to help inspire me to be a better mother, wife and friend. To take notice of what often gets overlooked and find the precious gems in our children. Your daughters are so beautiful, too. Fruit of what you have invested in them. I for one cannot wait to read what you will share with us in your next book and pray that these final days of writing will be enjoyable and light on your soul and that you will feel excited about how many people you will touch and change through it…because you will! xxx
What a meaningful hidden strength to point out for Avery with undeniable proof: “I think after seeing what you did so bravely at the swim meet and the way you talked so kindly to the special lady that you would speak up … that you would say, ‘That’s not okay.’ And then you might say to the hurt person, “Don’t listen to them. You have special gifts they can’t see. But I see them.”
Courage, kindness and noticing…no wonder she smiled! From all that you’ve shared about your daughter, that’s her to a T. I’m smiling and tearing up at the same time.
I am so touched that you included my quote in this inspiring post to help others make this kind of difference for their children. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart <3 – Sandy
Thank you. Right now I am in the midst of training at a new job after having been a trainer at my old job for years. I am not used to being the trainee and not knowing all the answers. That is something my inner critic loves to pounce on. But you and Avery reminded me that doing the thing you think you cannot do takes courage and right now that thing is to have patience with the learning process and be in the state where you simply don’t have all the answers. I guess we are all trainees and trainers in different aspects of our lives. In some areas we know things and can do things well and impart that knowledge to others. In some areas we are all still growing and learning and trying to be content with the learning process. Thank you for the reminder to speak kind and gentle words today to that part of me that is caught in the cage of inner criticism and self-doubt! I hope that as you finish your book that you will feel the strength, well-wishes and prayers of all those whose lives you’ve touched with your words. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the sacrifices, prayers, and tears that have gone into your book. I know that it will bless lives!
Dear Avery,
Thank-you for allowing your mom to share this beautiful story with us. It is through your courage that we are all learning to be a little braver in this world. Over the past two years I have read your Mama’s blog & books and can sense you have a gentle soul….an “old soul” like my son. From all I have read, I would describe you as an “empathetic person”…one of the best qualities I believe a person can have… and one I feel “this world needs most”. Your kindness always makes my heart smile….
As you curl up under the covers tonight, please snuggle your Mama a little tighter…for all of us. Remind her that just as the book you are reading brings her peace and comfort….HER book too will bring many of her readers peace & comfort. Her words are a gift. They remind me of what kind of person I want to be…and for that I am grateful.
Sending much love from my home to yours…Shannon
Rachel, your writing always touches my soul. There is always so much that I want to say to you in response to what you write and words often escape me. Please tell Avery that when the time comes we will adopt a rescue pet. In our current circumstances we can not adopt a pet but when we can we WILL. 🙂 We will adopt an older pet(s) (dog.) The dog with the most need that we can fulfill and bring loving care into it’s life. We may even consider fostering first and help dogs who are in transition from where they are to a loving home.
We have adopted cats and dogs in the past who needed loving homes. We have had the blessings of loving, teaching and watching these precious animals lose their fears, gain strength back and blossom into the happy, loving, pets they were meant to be. They knew in their hearts that they had a loving home and that they were wanted and cherished. We thought in our hearts we were rescuing them, giving them what they needed. In reality each one f them gave back to us 100 fold because that’s what they do best. 🙂
Thank you, Lea. You have a beautiful heart that shines through your words. I will tell Avery what you said. She will be thrilled. We are going to visit the cats this week. We are praying Louie has been adopted. If it weren’t for my husband, we would have a house full of cats!!! Thank you for taking the time to comment and encourage both Avery and me with your loving words.
The quote from your friend Sandy hit me hard. This morning I had a heated discussion with my 16-year-old son who believes there is no solution for his ADD . He is medicated but it takes everything he has to get through the school day and he often works late into the night to get his homework done. All I can do is what Sandy said… keep reminding him of the strengths and qualities he has that make him able to get through whatever he faces. As his parent and advocate, I can NEVER give up on him regardless of his decision to give up on himself. I am thankful today for every adult, teacher, and mentor who took the time to tell my children they had value. My mission today is to do more of that myself. Thanks for the reminder!
Hi Rachel,
Please let your sweet daughter know that my own Noticer and I love to visit the cats at our local pet store and pay attention to them so they feel less alone. We have two cats–one adopted from Petco, and one adopted from PetSmart. We would take them all home with us if we could.
Thank you for your words of hope and encouragement for people of all ages.
I have been struggling with my son… he is always grumbling and laying around.. I admit to using the word “lazy” more than once this week.. which breaks my own heart. I needed to read this.. to remember he is who he is and I need to focus on all the wonderful, amazing things he does each day and what a blessing he is to me… thank you, thank you!
Thanks for this post! It was so moving!
I recently found your books and websites and am a convert to being hands-free. I hope I am not too late since my kids are now 13 & 12. I wish I had found you earlier. My 13 year old has autism and I have a demanding freelance business and I am so drained from trying to “do it all.” Hopefully it’s not too late for me to be fully there for my husband and children.
Please tell Avery that I am so glad there are noticers like her in the world and that it is so important to tell others about the things that she sees. Once upon a time another noticer saw something in me that I did not know was there. But once the words were spoken, I slowly started to see it, too, as well as a part of myself that I had kept hidden due to my own cowardice. Suddenly, things that I had always thought impossible appeared possible. It is not an exaggeration to say that her comments created a defining moment in my life. Not only is my career based upon the exact abilities she pointed out, but, more importantly, she caused a shift in my perception of myself.