“You are special and your work is outstanding and very much appreciated. Our company simply could not function as well as it does without you.” How would you feel if your boss regularly greeted you with this information? As much as we may deny it, we human beings need and crave positive reinforcement and recognition on a regular basis. Why is it, then, that the most genuine displays of sincerity and consideration come from those people who we call “disabled?”

Doesn’t Anybody Say Thank You Any More?

Recently I’ve come to notice that the general population has been “deleting” the small niceties that used to be commonplace. “Thank you,” Good Morning.” And “How are you today?” are a few of the basics that we’ve been hearing less and less of these days. For example, the other day I gave a ride to a young man whom I had never met. He told me where he wanted to get off, and then quickly exited the car without as much as a simple “Thank you.” It wasn’t so much that I needed to hear those words; I just think that he would be more successful in life if he was more accustomed to say those two little words. The next morning I was in shul when I noticed that a young man who had just had “hagbah,” (the action of lifting of the Torah for all to see), sat down with the Torah and was looking around for a siddur (prayer book). Being in his vicinity and noticing his need, I went over and gave him one. Not only did he not say anything to me, he did not even acknowledge my presence; he merely stuck out his hand to take the siddur. I must admit I was a bit taken aback. I mean, here we were, placed in the same shul, in the same generation, at the same time, just having read from The Law, and this person could not take the three seconds necessary to even nod his head to me. Was I invisible?? Did I even exist at all?

My Real Support Team

After one too many of the above type of encounters, I headed off to my job at Yedei Chesed. Within moments, one of my male “day hab” consumers walked in, took note of my presence, and promptly ran over to give me a great big bear hug, in conjunction with the words, “I love you!” Granted, the bear hug, an almost daily occurrence, was not socially appropriate, and we would address it. What was appropriate was the true and authentic joy and care the young man exhibited upon noticing the existence of another human being. Then another consumer, followed by her staff supporter, came right up to me, and with a huge 100 watt smile gushed, “Good Morning!” I was not the only recipient of these sincere, genuine unwarranted displays of care and concern.

These were forthright, candid declarations of “I’m glad that we’re here in this world together, and I care about you; seeing you has really made my day!”

Appropriate and Inappropriate Care

It is a fact, for the benefit of all involved; that we have to teach the people we work with to display age appropriate affection. Generally, it is common knowledge that we have to teach our “special population” how to appropriately demonstrate expressions of affection. Simply going up to people and hugging them is obviously inappropriate. The feeling and genuine sincerity of love, concern, and care is appropriate. Teaching independent living skills and maturity ought not to dilute those feelings, despite the fact that they’re not felt, nor practiced as intensely by the “non disabled population.” It is a lesson we can learn from those who have been described as being “more connected to their neshamos than us.” The Gemara in Shabbos, Daf 31a, tells the story of the potential convert approaching Hillel, the Elder, and requesting the essential message of Torah. “Do no do to others what is hateful to you,” was his reply. Perhaps I am a bit oversensitive to being ignored, acknowledged, greeted, or smiled at by those I come in contact with on a daily basis. I must admit that it does feel good to see and hear the genuine beckoning of, “I recognize you-you’re one of my people, my family. We stood together at Sinai, and here we are now. Let’s enjoy and care for each other while we’re here.” Overly idealistic, you say? Poetic and wishy washy? Perhaps, but is the Gemara overly idealistic; is the Arizal’s rule of saying,” I love every other human as myself,” as a daily rule merely empty words?

A Daily Effort

My consumers and others that I have encountered, from the “disabled” population pick up on my feelings. Hiding some inner anxiety from “mature” or “appropriate” “non disabled” population works. We all play the game. They, the “others,” the “disabled” pick up on it. “Don’t be sad,” I’m told. “Why are you in a bad mood?” “Hey, how did you know…” and you then see the knowledge, awareness, and care in their eyes. Okay, we have to channel these expressions into acceptable behaviors.

My male consumer has to get his morning job done, despite his desire to engage in friendly conversations with every passerby. We have to re-channel the behaviors, but we must not negate the feelings, and must learn to incorporate them into our lives.

Caring, Despite our Daily Rat Race

We tend to move through our daily lives quickly. There are scheduled tasks to do, and responsibilities that need to be fulfilled. Too often we look at our watches rather than each other. We have all been placed here at the same time for each other. That’s the schedule and that’s our joint responsibility. A watch is a human invention. Our fellow human beings are G-d made.

My Rebbe exemplified the true meaning of “Ahavas Yisroel”, because he saw that taking the time for others is the point. Our learning is in order to do, and to do for others is the headline before the commentary. The Baal HaTanya, zt”l, said that sometimes all schedules boil down to one point in time. A person could live for 70-80 years for the sole reason of doing a favor for another.

Learn from the Moment

Our “disabled” population are disabled from our schedules and time allotments. They allow us to capture a snapshot in time of genuine care, love, and concern. We use clichés, but when they say it, they mean it. Let us learn from them and make the world a better place as it was stated succinctly in a piece recently printed in the Country Yossi Magazine, entitled, “G-d Said No!”

I asked G-d to take away my bad habit.

G-d said,” No, it is not for me to take away, but for you to give up.”

I asked G-d to make my handicapped child whole.

G-d said, “No, his spirit is whole, his body is only temporary.”

I asked G-d to grant me patience.

G-d said, “No, patience is a byproduct of tribulations. It isn’t granted, it is learned.”

I asked G-d to give me happiness.

G-d said, “No, I give you blessings; happiness is up to you.

I asked G-d to spare me pain.

G-d said, “No. Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares and brings you closer to me.”

I asked G-d to make my spirit grow.

G-d said, “No. You must grow on your own, but I will nourish you to make you fruitful.”

I asked G-d for all things that I might enjoy in life.

G-d said, No. I will give you life, so that you may enjoy all things.”

I asked G-d to help me love others, as much as He loves me.

G-d said… “Ahhhh, finally you have the idea.”

Dr. Shmuel Abramson is the co-coordinator of the Day Hab. and supportive employment programs at Workpoint/Yedei Chesed.  He also serves as a consultant for behavioral therapy and intervention. He can be reached at 845-425-0887 #249, or at shmuelabramson@aol.com.

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