Like the stuff of storybooks, the children added into our train of giggling, tickling, laughing, hugging
and happy group, until we were led into a huge room with beautiful windows on the 5th floor.
most of us cried through them actually. So precious and so so much promise.
And then the nannies cranked up the music and we had one, huge, super long, ginormous dance party.
They played some of the most heartbreaking American songs, haha. We were all like "oh nooo."
every time another sad song would come on. We'd get over one, and start crying over the next!
And dancing some more.
and he tried his English. For awhile, he just sat and looked at me. And I looked back.
into a huge circle while he taught the kids the rules (at least we think that was what was happening). ;)
But he wasn't.
He was back where I was, with a nanny with one staying hand on the back of his wheelchair.
He watched what was going on with a calm yet curious expression.
and back at him, all the way over by the windows. He was literally the only kid out.
I don't fault the sweet nanny at all, I'm sure she was keeping him out because of thinking about the
kids tripping on the back of his wheels as they rushed by in excitement. It wasn't meant to hurt.
fashion (that floor was SLICK), roars of laughter, clapping and tons of joy.
because he was propping himself up on his arms. So I clapped for him.
So just a few yards short of her goal, we put on a burst of speed,
and his left shoe brushed gently on the back of her jacket.
They wished I could have seen it. His whole face was lit up and I could feel his laughter in my arms.