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The Miracle Workers

posted Friday June 6th, 2014

miracle

In an effort to break up the “Full House” rerun marathon threatening to continue through the summer,  last night I took the girls to see a community theater production of “The Miracle Worker.”

I was a little obsessed with Helen Keller when I was a kid, and Sophie already owned a copy of the script for “The Miracle Worker,” thanks to her own obsessive play shopping at our local bookstore, which doesn’t have a kids drama section. Hence, Sophie owns a few Neil Simon plays and a copy of “Our Town” along with “The Miracle Worker.”  She obviously hadn’t gotten much out of whatever perusal she’d made of the script, because she had a lot of questions.

“Did Helen Keller have heart surgery?” Sophie stage-whispered, a few minutes into the play.

“No,” I whispered back.

A few minutes later: “Did she have a feeding tube?”

“No.”

I looked down at Sophie, who was intently watching the stage.

“Hey, do you think Helen Keller had Down syndrome?”

“Yes.”

The play was quite good, and the girl who played Helen was phenomenal. The role was very physical (obviously, if you know anything about Keller’s story) and she and the actor who played Annie Sullivan had great chemistry. (If you are in town and have a chance, “The Miracle Worker” is playing at Hale Theater in Gilbert through July 5.)

While Sophie was busy trying to compare herself to Helen Keller, I focused instead on how different my daughter is from her, trying to imagine what that must have been like, to have a child locked up like that. I realize, writing this now, that the similarities to autism are certainly, painfully there — though the tragedy is that in so many cases, when it comes to autism there’s not much an Annie Sullivan can do to unlock that door that stands as a barrier to communication.

But Helen Keller and Sophie aren’t so much alike. At least, I don’t think so, although a few times during the play, I found myself trying to keep Sophie quiet as the Kellers were battling Helen, and had to shake my head at the coincidence. And I wonder what Sophie saw that so convinced her of it. Maybe, simply, it was the fact that she doesn’t often see depictions of people with disabilities. None of us do.

One unmistakable similarity, despite the time and the diagnosis was the miracle worker, herself. I’ve been on the inside looking out for so many years, I hadn’t stopped to think about how necessary teachers, therapists and other care givers are when it comes to stopping parents (like me!) from coddling their children, (kindly) stepping in between parent and child to do the tough work that needs to be done. I teared up at the end of the play, as Annie signs “I love you” to Helen, thinking of all of the miracle workers in Sophie’s life. My life, too.

During the play and intermission, and even into the second act, Annabelle and I tried to (quietly) explain to Sophie that Keller was deaf, blind and mute — but didn’t have Down syndrome. I guess Sophie didn’t believe us. After the play we lined up to meet the actors (always my girls’ favorite part) and Sophie posed her question to the 5th grader who played Helen Keller.

The girl looked at me, slightly panicked (standing behind Sophie, I silently shook my head “no”), then back at Sophie and answered, “No, she didn’t have Down syndrome.”

Annabelle, who had been quiet much of the evening, told the man and woman who played Helen’s parents, “That was the best play I ever saw.”

She didn’t say much after the play, either, and I wondered what was going through Annabelle’s head, what she thought of the play — particularly the family dynamics. Annabelle is a bit of a miracle worker herself, when it comes to Sophie, but I know things aren’t always easy for her. Waiting for the play to begin, she was understandably mad when Sophie pushed her away when she tried to give her a hug, and gave her sister the silent treatment for a good, long time.

Later at home, I heard Annabelle say quietly, “You know I love you, Sophie. I’ll always love you.” Sophie apologized quietly.

I wonder if I would have been as good a sister. I don’t think so.

 

 

 

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Tags: Filed under: Down syndrome by Amysilverman

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My Heart Can't Even Believe It: A Story of Science, Love, and Down Syndrome is available from Amazon and 
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