Someone told me that people born with Down syndrome need help.
Thinking about that made me realize something.
Looking back over my life it’s easy to see that help, from others, has always been a necessity. It began with doctors and nurses on October 8th, 1950 and continues on to this day.
Parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, neighbors, friends, teachers, to name a few, have provided help to me.
I was ran over, had pneumonia four times, broke an arm, had chicken pox at age 37, was in ICU four days and anemic most of my life. Someone helped me through those times, and it was costly.
Then something else occurred to me. I sat and thought of the lives of several friends and saw the same requirement for help in their lives as was needed for mine.
If I was in the same situation as friends of mine that were asked if they wanted to abort their baby that would be born with Down syndrome, my answer would be what their answer was . . . “No”, and that answer would come quickly.