MSI Press Blog

  Precerpt from  Raising God’s Rainbow Makers (Mahlou) The Braces, the Toe, and the Truth-Teller Noelle had waited a long time to stand. Not metaphorically—she had always stood tall in spirit—but physically, upright and proud, outside the confines of her stroller. At age four, after a series of surgeries and setbacks, she was finally fitted with long-leg braces. They gleamed like armor to her, not as a symbol of limitation, but of triumph. We celebrated at McDonald’s. She stood in line with the rest of us, her braces clicking gently with each shift of weight. Then she noticed a woman across the restaurant, staring—not cruelly, just curiously. Noelle caught her gaze and lit up. “Hi, lady!” she chirped, as if greeting an old friend. “You like my braces?” The woman blinked, startled. “Oh—yes,” she managed. “I’m so, so happy to have them,” Noelle said, beaming. “I waited a really long time.” And just like that, the woman relaxed. Noelle’s matter-of-fact joy had disarmed her. They ...

  Entry: The Real Gym at Home Today is Independence Day—not just for the USA, but also for my daughter, who surprised us all by being released from the hospital after two long weeks fighting sepsis. My daughter, now 49, moved home almost a year ago. She has spina bifida, including paraplegia. She is strong—and she stays strong. After all, she’s Grandma Ninja’s daughter. The two male nurses who helped with discharge saw that firsthand when it came time to get her from her wheelchair into the car. They struggled until I mentioned I could lift her out of the chair myself (she’s only 125 pounds) and then she could pull herself onto the seat, using the handhold above the window. They looked skeptical, but one of them gave it a try—and sure enough, she could. "She is really strong," he commented. As we navigated her homecoming, I realized how much she contributes to keeping me strong. Sometimes, I do have to lift her. Before we adjusted her bed last summer, I used to volleybal...