My dear friend and fellow writer Wes Stephenson wrote this poem. He too has a daughter with very special and wonderful challenges...

THE PITIFUL EAGLE

In the thick southern forests I used to call home
The eagle flew proudly, the sky was her throne.
'Was there 'neath a pine tree I watched as she soared;
The master of skills I’ve always adored.

She trimmed to the breezes for effortless lift,
To float like a kite on the string of her gift.
Her eyes caught a movement, at once she descends;
Then, clutching her prey, she returned to the winds.

As I sat in that forest, impressed by the sight,
A duck waddled up and he quacked with his might:
"I pity those eagles, I'm sorry for them;
Those handicapped bird-brains, they can't even swim!

Their toes look so funny, no webs on their feet;
Compared to us ducks, those birds aren't complete!"
The duck waddled off just as quick as he came,
When in flew a robin who started the same;

“I pity those eagles; it’s such a sad thing,
Those handicapped bird-brains, they can’t even sing!
Such squawking and screeching, why can’t they just ‘tweet’?
Compared to us robins, those birds aren’t complete.”

The robin flew skyward, I sat and I stared;
For fowl-mouthed opinions I wasn’t prepared.
The duck and the robin both tended to find
The lacking in others, and so they were blind

To all of the virtues the eagle displays,
Her strength and her beauty, so worthy of praise.
I learned then a lesson that reaches so far;
Forget other’s limits, just see what they are!