“We take so much for granted,” Mrs. Levy said. “It makes you so thankful for the little things, doesn’t it?”

R

ikki opened the front door. “Hi, Ma, I’m home.”

“Hi, Rikki,” her mother said as Rikki passed the living room. “This is Jennifer. Why don’t you join us?”

Rikki looked at her mother warily as she slipped her backpack off her shoulder and sat down.

The woman held out her hand towards Rikki. “Hi.” Her voice was chipper. “You can call me Jenny if you’d like. Your mom was just telling me about you.”

Rikki shook Jennifer’s hands weakly, then looked at her mother again.

“Jennifer will be working with Chaya. She’s an occupational therapist.”

“OT for short,” Jennifer said. “Do you know what an occupational therapist does?”

Rikki shrugged. “No.”

“In a nutshell, we help people develop the skills they need for everyday living. Or we help them keep up the skills they already have.”

“What kind of skills?”

“Oh, like eating and dressing. Easy things you take for granted.”

“So, like, maybe Chaya will be able to eat by herself after you teach her what to do?”

“Well, first, I’m going to evaluate her, then I’ll get a better picture of what she’s capable of doing.” Her features turned solemn. “But Haya may never be able to do the simple things we do. She may always need someone to feed her and dress her.”

“But you’re not sure because you didn’t evaluate her yet, right?”
“Right. I was talking to your mom and getting an idea of what she can and can’t do. As soon as I assess Haya, I’ll be able to help her as best as I can.”

“She’s 15,” Rikki said. “Why is she starting therapy now? Isn’t it too late?”

Jennifer looked at Mrs. Levy.

“Rikki,” Mrs. Levy said, “Chaya’s been working with an OT and a PT since she was a toddler. Several times a week, in fact.”
Rikki didn’t know what PT meant but didn’t ask. “At the place where she lived?”
Her mother nodded.

“So, it’s basically a waste of time?” Rikki said.