Joey

Joey is one of the children who spends the majority of his time in a crib. As our team was taken through the rooms meeting the children, Joey was in his crib waiting for us. As soon as he saw our team, he began laughing. And laughing. And laughing. Such a precious, precious sound…
As we walked up to his crib, we understood the nannies to tell us this was "happy girl." After an afternoon of referring to him as happy girl, we decided he needed a name. And we still thought he was a she… we named him Joy. After a rather humorous diaper change performed by one member of our team, we quickly decided he should be Yoji or Joey. Some of us still refer to our silly boy as Yoji but most of the team prefers to call him Joey. Either way, he is one joyful soul.

We took Joey out of the crib and played with him in the floor of a playroom. And he laughed. We talked with him. And he laughed. We could learn so much from this precious child. He can’t speak. His little legs are thin, no muscle mass to speak of. He can walk but only with a tremendous amount of assistance. He has braces we put on him for our trip to the park, but you could tell they were seldom if ever used. This child spends virtually his entire time in a crib. He doesn’t cry. He laughs.

While at the park, Joey was pushed around in a wheelchair. And he laughed. We pulled him out of the chair and put him on a ride with a friend. Joy, Joy, Joy!!! He had smiles and laughs for everyone who took the time to talk with him. After the park, we had KFC. This child totally, completely enjoyed his meal. Every. Single. Bite. He had a chicken sandwich, two pieces of chicken, fries, and a soda. He ate so much, I thought his little tummy would burst. He also showed us how incredibly intelligent he is. As he took a bite, I would say yuuuuummmmm. He quickly began saying yuuuummmmm after every bite. One afternoon, the director was talking and Joey got pretty loud. A friend and I were with him, and the friend put her finger to her lip and said “shhhh Joey” with a smile in her voice. He quickly began imitating her and saying shhhh and immediately laughed.

We began taking Joey downstairs and allowing him to sit in his wheelchair while the ambulatory kiddos worked on crafts. One afternoon, he was at the craft table with his back to a large play area that had a ball pit. He enjoyed the craft, but he kept looking back over his shoulder at the kiddos who were playing and laughing in the ball pit. I wheeled him over to the pit. He thought we were there to watch the others play, and he was happy with that. But just when he thought he was content as a spectator, I picked him up and began walking to the ball pit. This boy erupted in laughter! Uncontrolled, deep from the belly laughter. I climbed in the ball pit with him in my arms, then let him fall down into the bed of colorful balls. So much joy! I would pull his upper body into a sitting position in the pit, and he would intentionally go totally limp in order to be down in the balls. When he finally began to tire of lying in the sea of balls, he allowed me to sit him up and he began throwing balls everywhere. And laughed. And laughed some more. The next day, I put him on a play mat next to the pit. With much cheering from the American team, he began to crawl to the pit. When he reached the steps, two members of our team took his hands, and he managed to climb the steps and go into the fun bed of balls. Seeing those spindly little legs climbing those steps and seeing the joy on his face, hearing his laughter, these are memories I will cherish.

Late one afternoon, I took him up to his crib and gently laid him down. A local friend was visiting the orphanage with our group. She leaned over Joey’s crib and asked if he liked the “American mamas.” With more laughter, he shook his head “yes.” I look at this little boy and see how his life has been shaped by his special need. So much joy, so much intelligence, so much potential, wasting away along with the cerebral palsy that defines this young boy. Makes my heart hurt. I suspect, though, that Joey would prefer we laugh with him rather than cry for him, so I pray the Lord will watch over him and offer him comfort during his lonely times in the crib. As I wipe away my tears for this child, I smile in remembrance of his overwhelming joy and exuberance for life.