My Elevator Ride

Ruby stepped on the elevator before me and watched, thoughtfully, as I guided my manual chair on board. She asked if she could push the button, and I said that she could. Before I could tell her which number to select, she simply pushed them all, that way she was sure to get it right. As there were only three choices, I didn't think it mattered enough to comment on. She returned her gaze to me.

"You have a big wheelchair," she said.

"Yes, I do," I said.

"You are big," she said.

"Yes I am," I said.

Pause for thought.

"I like it when it all makes sense," she said.

I've been chuckling over that sentiment ever since.

I like it when the world makes sense too. I like when things go together the way they should. To Ruby, big people have big wheelchairs - that makes sense. It makes sense to her that people fit into their own worlds. It makes sense that different people have different things. It makes sense that difference exists and difference is accommodated. In the world of a older than four, younger than five little girl - big goes into big, small goes into small - the existence of big and small are simply a given. In this world wheelchairs are like coats, or shoes, they come in different sizes, just like the people who use them. In this world it is a relief to know that 'fitting in' makes sense.

I agree with Ruby, I like it when the world makes sense.

When there is joy that everything is going to plan.

Yes, I like it when the world makes sense.

I just wish it did a little more often.