Thirty Years of Love and Devotion
OUR daughter Josephine is now just over 30 years of age. She delights in washing the dishes and helping around the house, and she always thanks us for the pleasure such jobs bring her. But then, Jose (as we call her) is rather exceptional. Let me explain why.
Likely you can imagine my joy when, after 14 years of marriage, I knew I was expecting my first child. But from the moment I saw Josephine, I realised that she was a Down’s syndrome baby.
Facing Reality
The shock and heartbreak were terrible. My kind husband was as upset for me as I was for him. The disappointment was very real for both of us. And, to be honest, our pride was shattered. How would we break the news to our parents and friends—and my husband to his business associates? But overshadowing everything else, we felt so sad for our daughter, especially since we did not then know the full extent of her handicap.
The doctors were frank. They told us that Jose would never be strong and that in such cases heart and chest weaknesses usually limit life expectancy. When we eventually arrived home, we still knew so little. Would Josephine ever walk, talk, or be able to feed herself? How would we ever manage, assuming we were able to cope at all? But I had faith that Josephine would be cured when, as I had so often prayed, God’s will takes place here on earth as in heaven.—Matthew 6:9, 10.
All my neighbours had taken an interest in my confinement. So when Josephine was about six weeks old, I made her look pretty in her perambulator, filling it, too, with copies of a booklet containing the very encouraging Bible talk “Can You Live Forever in Happiness on Earth?” Then I knocked at every door on both sides of the road on which I lived, inviting each neighbour out in turn to see my baby. At the same time, I explained my hope for her restoration to perfect health under God’s Kingdom rule and gave everyone a copy of the booklet. After I had finished, I did not feel as brave as I hope I looked. But at least I had shown all how precious my faith is.
Meeting the Challenge
My husband and I determined to do our very best for Josephine. At the outset, we set our minds to the task of making her an acceptable member of society. Little did we realise then how many years of slow training—painfully slow at times—lay ahead of us.
For example, Jose’s tongue would constantly hang out of her mouth. Each time this happened, I would gently put it back, kiss her cheek, and whisper to her, “Clever girl!” By the time she was six months old, she got to understand what was required and this problem was overcome. But what patience was needed!
Family, friends, and members of the Taunton, England, Congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses were all so helpful! Never did we lack for a word of encouragement. After little more than a year, with the aid of a child walker, Josephine was getting around the house unaided. A pattern was beginning to emerge, but we still had much to learn.
When Josephine was two and a half years old, we were advised that the time had come to toilet train her. She was always dry and clean when she went to bed, and I took her to the bathroom again just before my husband and I retired for the night. We set our alarm clock for half-past four, when I would rise to care for Jose’s needs once more. Then, by setting the clock five minutes later each day, by the time she was three, we were regularly able to get an undisturbed night’s rest. The secret, we found, was to have on hand a warm, dry change of clothing for her and to commend with the phrase she had grown to know so well, “Clever girl!”
Progress and Setbacks
Knowing that ours was not a unique problem, we read books about Down’s syndrome but found so many of them depressing. We therefore decided to have independent assessments of Josephine’s disabilities and her potential. Here again, opinions varied enormously, usually depending on how Josephine felt at the time of her interviews.
On one occasion, she took an instant dislike to a specialist. As a result, we were told that Josephine was a very bad case and quite incapable of learning anything. But other interviews were more constructive. Her ability to speak a little, and especially to sing in tune, stood her in good stead. As a direct result of these tests, when Jose was eight years old, we were able to enroll her in a Bristol school for children with special educational needs.
By the time Jose was three, I had given birth to our second daughter, Joan. As Joan grew up, she was my constant companion and joined in helping to care for Josephine with the freshness of a child who dearly loved her older—but, in reality, her baby—sister. When I would be inclined to give up on teaching a certain word or correcting persistent naughty behaviour, Joan would persevere and thereby encourage me. Of course, there were problems, as Josephine’s frustrations so often turned into tantrums. Then the only remedy was to hold her very tightly to prevent her from injuring herself, all the while gently reassuring her until she gradually calmed down.
Bringing up two children in such circumstances was not easy. When I had to go into the hospital for an operation, Josephine fretted so much that she lost all her lovely dark hair. Although for many years we regularly took her to a specialist for treatment, to this day she has to wear a wig. Soon thereafter, her health broke down. A curvature of the spine also developed, and because of her precarious health, we were unable to do anything about this. Things were not easy for any of us. In times of extreme stress, we were very grateful for the modern drugs that enabled Jose to relax and sleep. In fact, I doubt that she would be alive today if it had not been for these modern medications.
The schoolteachers who specialised in Josephine’s care were unstinting in their efforts to help her and to train her. Lessons never lasted more than 20 minutes and oftentimes were of much shorter duration. We concentrated primarily on correct vowel sounds, followed by very short phrases, going slowly to ensure clear pronunciation. Jose’s powers of concentration were very limited. On one occasion, I recall that Joan and I spent two weeks teaching her to say “my arm” and “park keeper.” But what a joy it was to be successful!
Josephine’s school curriculum, limited though it had to be, was of great value. By the age of 16 not only could she speak well but she could also read and write. She had learned skills with her hands and could weave and make clay pots. Even today she loves to colour pictures, something she does meticulously. But, most important of all, during all these formative years, I taught both my girls to love Jehovah God.
Spiritual Blessings
When Joan underwent baptism at the age of 16, Josephine was present and heard the speaker say that a baptized person is “truly one of Jehovah’s large family.” From then on, Jose’s one longing and fervent wish was to be part of that family. So a few years later, at the age of 22, she was baptized. That was such a happy day!
Quite fearlessly, Josephine talks to everyone about her faith in God—to her teachers at the Centre where she spends some time each week, to friends, and to neighbours. She is proud to be one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. Jose places many Bible study aids and gives me addresses to write to so as to follow up interest she has found. She loves to attend meetings at the local Kingdom Hall, and when she is well enough, we are able to take her to larger assemblies.
I also have numerous opportunities to help others in circumstances similar to my own. Some of my husband’s business associates, as well as doctors who know about Josephine, will ask me to go and comfort the parents of a Down’s syndrome baby. They send me because I always look so happy. Well, I have every reason for happiness. Over the years, I have corresponded with families in Australia and elsewhere who are having problems like my own. It is always rewarding to be able to encourage other parents and to pass on to them practical suggestions gained from my own experience.
Of course, every case is different and domestic circumstances vary. But medical authorities acknowledge that Down’s syndrome children have a wide variety of abilities and a great deal of suppressed potential. Parents must fight the tendency to become passive and overprotective as they settle down after the initial shock of the birth. Overindulgence is another ever-present danger. The first five years are as formative for a child with Down’s syndrome as they are for normal children. Firmness, tempered with kindness, is essential if full potential is to be realised.
Every effort my husband, my daughter Joan, and I have made has been worth while. Outsiders often think that caring for a handicapped child must be a responsibility with little reward. How wrong they are! Although Josephine cannot cook, she will often make a cup of tea as a surprise when visitors arrive. She also answers the telephone, makes her own bed, and exercises great care and much patience when doing little jobs of dusting and cleaning about the home.
Children suffering from Down’s syndrome are not only extremely affectionate but also sensitive, caring, and gentle. Josephine is no exception. Oh, yes! She really has brought us far more joy than sorrow. As far as we are concerned, it is she who especially manifests love and devotion.—As told by Anna Field.
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I had shown all how precious my faith is
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We were very grateful for the modern drugs that enabled Jose to relax and sleep
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I taught both my girls to love Jehovah
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The first five years are as formative for a child with Down’s syndrome as they are for normal children
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Anna Field with her daughter Josephine