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First Born

The following is an excerpt from “The China Cabinet”. This is the book I published last November. If you choose to purchase a copy, all proceeds will go to the reward fund.

FIRST BORN

If ever there was a child that needed to understand his own worth, it is Corey. I sometimes joke that even when I had Joshua (his much younger brother) I was still not ready to be a mother. The truth is, I had dreamed about my first child for years before Corey was born. Sometimes now that he is in puberty, it is hard for me to remember… but Corey is everything I dreamed he’d be.

When Corey was smaller, I knew that he had issues with speech. I thought these issues were normal, but it was not until he enrolled in Kindergarten did I realize how bad his problem was. If you asked him how old he was, he would answer, “Corey”. If you asked him his name, he would say, “Six”. He has a learning disability in communication. It’s almost like when you type a direction into the browser of your Internet, and the little hour glass pops up. A moment later, the computer recognizes the direction, and responds. That’s Corey.

The first year of school was particularly hard. He would get frustrated with class, and hide under the tables. One day, he tried to kick his teacher. We were both at our wits end. It became clear to me that I needed to quit my job and stay home to help him. I stayed home and did child care to help my second husband make ends meet. During the day, Corey went to regular kindergarten in the morning, ate lunch with the big kids, and stayed the afternoon for the developmentally delayed kindergarten class. During that year, he underwent IQ, personality, and behavioral tests. At one point, a counselor tried to tell me he was very close to an intellectual disability.

I worked with Corey every day after he got off the bus. We played games, read together, and did homework until dinner time. Then, after dinner, we would hit the books until it was time for his bath and bed. The whole time, he smiled and never let it get him down. I don’t think he knew there was a problem.

At the end of the year, his teacher came to me with his grade card. She smiled wide and told me he was considered grade level. She also told me she had shared about his advances at a teacher’s conference the week before. She cried and hugged me.

Every year has been a struggle of one type or another. But there’s never been something more worth fighting for.

Gwen Carver

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