by Irene Culver

About the author: Irene Culver is a freelance writer in Orangevale, California.

The brown-eyed, auburn-haired little boy sitting next to me in a car seat as I drive to preschool asks, “Did you know my mom and dad made me"” Guardedly, I agree they did. “Shoulda used Play-Doh,” he quips. His disability isn’t on his mind. He’s not suggesting they could have made an improved version of Carl. He’s just seen a connection between making something with clay and making a baby.

Being Different

For long periods each day my grandson Carl doesn’t think about his disability, but if it’s brought to mind by a classmate or stranger he’ll sometimes hang his head and plead, “I want...