She can’t walk like other people. She has to throw her upper body back, and her gait is rocking, unsteady and tentative. It is awkward. And painful sometimes. Sometimes she is self conscious.
But not today.
He was a little fussy, but he stopped and stared at the kindly priest, dazzled by the lights and the colors, and calmed by the gentle splash of the warm water.
Her family, not very devout, didn’t kneel. But she knelt that day.
She couldn’t help glancing down at the little boy next to her. Her little boy.
The boy she carried and delivered, even though no one thought she could.