My Greatest Teacher

I remember sitting in the Foothills Hospital in Calgary on the evening of April 28, 1996 and hearing the word "paralysis" spoken by a stranger in a white coat. Surely there was some mistake. It took days, weeks, months, for it to sink in.

Suddenly we had to learn things that we never planned on knowing. I had always told our children that life is about change, but I never expected this!

Now it's eight years later. Christian is happy, bright, handsome, funny, athletic, charming-all the things he was before he suffered his injury. Forgive me, I am his mother after all! My point is that he is still Christian. He can't walk, but I like to think that he has gained qualities that he may not have (at least not at such an early age) as a result of his experience. He is patient, non-judgmental, pragmatic and has a quiet dignity about him. He is also fun loving, and to my dismay, still somewhat risk taking. He is still Christian.

Last week while I was driving I listened to a program on the radio about teachers who have influenced our lives. For some it was Miss Smith in grade three, for others a university professor or a therapist. I didn't have to think long to know that my greatest teacher has been my son.