‘The Creed’ (Author Unknown)

The Down’s Syndrome Creed
My face may be different, but my feelings the same,
I laugh, I cry, I take pride in my gains.
I was sent here among you to teach you to love,
As God in the heavens looks down from above.
To Him I’m no different,
His love knows no bounds.
It’s those here among you, in cities and towns,
That judge me by standards that man has imparted.
But the family He’s chosen will help me get started.
For I am one of His children, so special and few,
That came here to learn the same lessons as you.
That love is acceptance,
It must come from the heart.
We all have the same purpose,
Though not from the start.
The Lord gave me my life to live and embrace,
And I’ll do it as you do,
Just at my own pace.

Welcome To Holland (by Emily Perl Kingsley)

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a
disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique
experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous
vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your
wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas
in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack
your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The
stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”

“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for
Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going
to Italy.”

But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in
Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible,
disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s
just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole
new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would
never have met.

It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy
than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your
breath, you look around…. and you begin to notice that Holland has
windmills….and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy… and
they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And
for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes, that’s where I was
supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away… because
the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But… if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to
Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely
things … about Holland.

©1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reseved. Reprinted by permission of the author.

‘Two Words’ (by Cheryl Ward)

Your birth brought us closer as death lingered near
Your strength as you struggled, gave flight to our fear
Down syndrome they whispered days after your birth
Two words that portrayed a false image of your worth
Those words did not tell us of the love you would bring
Or the power your smile has to make our hearts sing
Down syndrome didn’t tell us what kind of child you would be
Filled with amazing surprises shared with your father and me
Hard work, determination, teaching and learning, it’s true
Down syndrome means much of this for each of us, not just you
Wonder child, spirited child, you’ve grown and you’ve thrived
Your every achievement, still fills us with pride
No matter the voice used, two words can’t describe
The fullness you’ve added, to so many lives
Down syndrome, those frightening words whispered so long ago
Never did they prepare me for the person I now know.

‘Like Me’ (by Emily Perl Kingsley)

I went to my dad, and I said to him, Dad,
There’s a new kid who’s come to my school.
He’s different from me and he isn’t too cool.
And he’s nothing at all like me, like me,
No, he’s nothing at all like me.

He runs in a funnyish jerkyish way
And he never comes first in a race.
Sometimes he forgets which way is first base
And he’s nothing at all like me, like me,
No, he’s nothing at all like me.

He studies all day in a separate class
And they say that it’s called Special Ed.
And sometimes I don’t understand what he’s said,
And he’s nothing at all like me, like me,
No, he’s nothing at all like me.

I know in the lunchroom he has lots of fun;
He loves hot dogs and ice cream and fries.
And he hates to eat spinach and that’s no surprise
‘Cause that’s not very different from me, from me,
No, that’s not very different from me.

And he’s always so friendly, he always says hi,
And he waves and he calls out my name.
And he’d like to be friends and get into a game,
Which is not very different from me, from me,
No, I guess that’s not different from me.

And his folks really love him. I saw them at school,
I remember on Open School Night —
They were smiling and proud and they hugged him real tight
And that’s not very different from me, from me,
No, that’s not very different from me.

So I said to my dad, Hey, you know that new kid?
Well, I’ve really been thinking a lot.
Some things are different . . . and some things are not . . .
But mostly he’s really like me, like me,
Yes, my new friend’s . . . a lot. . . like me.

©1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of the author