Cup

I came across this poem on a blog from another mom with a special needs child.  I couldn't read it with a dry eye, so I thought it was worth posting.

When you look at me,

You will measure me

...by my awareness

...by my response

...by my age

...by my development

And you will shake your head and find me lacking.

But, for me, you are measuring

With the wrong cup.

For I have one possession

Which brims and overflows

Beyond all others.

I have my parents' love.

The cup they give me holds also their

...agony and helplessness

...waiting and hoping

...tears and pain

...loneliness and fear.

But in the end, all these are swallowed up

in the depth of their love

Which now, in each same moment

Both lets me go

And will never let me go.

So measure me, if you must...

But measure me, too, with my cup

And you will find me

Full.