It's Just a Word

Leah’s newest favorite thing to do is swing, so yesterday we swung at the coolest park in town.

Swinging next to us was a cute little girl with the biggest blue eyes that I’ve ever seen. We began to make silly faces at one another while her parents were chatting.

I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear.

But then all of the sudden, out of nowhere, like semi-truck racing down a West Virginia mountain, this woman said, “He always acts like a retard.”

My heart stopped.

My face flushed.

My soul ached.

It was if time stopped for a split second.

The tears were very hard to control.

I know, I know, this sounds silly to most people. It’s just a word, right?

Actually, it is a word I have used 1,000,000,000 times in my life.

I didn’t associate Down syndrome with “retard”. Heck, I didn’t even know what Down syndrome was.

I never meant it to hurt anyone and I am sure this woman, with the blue-eyed beauty, meant no harm.

But boy, it hurts now.

Why does one word cause so much pain?