The Voice of Hope

I heard his voice as he entered the ladies' bathroom in the public library.  Initially, I couldn't make out his age.  A woman spoke with him in a language I could not discern.  Maybe it was his mother?  But this did not sound like an infant's voice that I had come to know and trust as accompanying a nurturing mom whose onus is to guide a child through the bathroom procedure until the child can manage on their own.  The child had a more mature voice - yet innocent, confident, concerned with the task ahead.  Why would an adolescent follow his mom into a public restroom?  The sound of their conversation came closer and closer to me until they chose the stall next to mine.  With growing anxiety at the nature of this turn of events with its inconclusive evidence, I tried to be progressive and adapt to the thought of gender-neutral bathrooms.  Then suddenly, it happened.  I looked beneath the wall separating us and instead of feet against the floor, I saw the legs of a wheelchair.  I felt humbled.  This was a routine the mother and son knew well.  I began to pray for forgiveness for having such a heated debate internally.  Why was I so vexed?  I discovered upon exiting the stall that the mom was from Pakistan and her 11-year old son was wheelchair bound.  The minute I saw their struggle my concern shifted from worry about bathroom protocol to the desire to preserve genuine dignity in the midst of adversity.  I can only pray for that child who was in the stall next to mine.  His mom will see his success.  His mom will support him when he needs help.  And people like me, strangers in passing can pray for a miracle for the family.  May their burden become light.  May they be grateful for each day in this life.