“A runty pig is trouble.” said her father.
“If I was born small, would you have killed me? ” shouted Fern.
“Course not. A little girl is one thing. A runty pig is another. ” said her father.
“I see no difference. This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of. ” Fern exclaimed.
I read each word with choked up whispers. Goldi listened snuggled down into her pillow. She stared at the pages with bright eyes soaking them in. She knows those words well and role plays them with as much expression as EB White’s words deserve. For any good story, the listener and the reader know that there’s always some hidden secret that comes with a reread. For me, this read was reflection of life with Goldi.
She too came out a tiny little 6 pound runt and trouble too. She ate and slept poorly. When she was old enough for words, she only grunted then spoke in tongues. There were noises, sights, and even the tiniest of touches that lead to screaming and tears. The trouble hasn’t ended. New ones come to replace the old. These days, it’s sleep deprivation, limited food selection, and remembering all the social cues so that she presents herself as Princess instead of Pippi.
But looking into that web of Charlotte’s, I see the messages that people had to see for themselves to know the importance of life. Wilbur was more than just a pig. Just like Goldi is more than just an autistic girl.
As I carry my pail of pig slops dealing with the mundane or the trials of the day, I suddenly I look into that sparkling web. and squint to see something surprising. SOME GIRL it reads. She’s some storyteller, keen observer, and artist. Just when we think she’s never going to take that risk, she proves us wrong . Terrific. Who else can spot the first Robin we long for after the dreads of winter? Who else will greet a guest with the Royal Carpet Treatment? Who else can ride a bike like a swan gliding along the crystal clear water? God put the masterpiece stamp on her. She’s Radiant. All she has to do is smile. Her bright blues sparkle. She can turn on the light of anyone’s dark world because she’s made in His image. She’s Humble. Because “Sorry” is the first word off her tongue when her imperfections are realized. She’s first to feel compassion for the someone who is scared or sad, and excited for the one whose life we celebrate on their marked day of the year.
Sometimes I need to read the words of the web to be reminded. Goldi’s life is to be regarded as miraculous as mine. Runt , autism, and all. So we regard it with SOMEthing of humility, radiance, and a dash of terrific and most of all with love. It’s what Charlotte had for Wilbur and it gave her a miracle back:
After all, what’s a life anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die. A spider’s life ( our lives) can’t help but be something of a mess. Heaven knows anyone’s life could stand a little lift up.
Zephaniah 3:17 He will rejoice over you with gladness.