“I wouldn’t say that,” her mother said. “Chaya can color and run a brush through her hair.”

Rikki had seen Chaya hold a crayon in a fisted grasp and scribble excitedly.

“Right,” Jennifer cut in. “Your mom told me that she can also wheel herself around the house and that she can hold a spoon. That’s an accomplishment.”

Chaya’s stilted attempts to go from room to room left her shins black and blue, and the walls in need of fresh paint. And Rikki had seen what happened when Chaya held a spoon.

“So, after all these years of therapy, that’s the best she can ever do?” Rikki said.

“That may be the case, Rikki. We’ll keep up the exercises so she doesn’t lose the ability to do the things she can already do. The physical therapist will work with her too. That’s the PT your mom mentioned.”

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

Rikki sat still as stone, her mother’s words slowly boring their way into her brain. “It does,” she whispered.

“I work exclusively with disabled children, and it’s changed my life,” Jennifer said. “They’re so loving and happy to be alive, even though they face such difficult challenges every day.”

Chaya appeared at the entranceway of the living room. Her hair was freshly washed and brushed into a ponytail. Rikki recognized the pink fuzzy robe she wore. She owned the same, in light purple. She looked at her mother in surprise.

“You have a few of the same things,” Mrs. Levy said as though reading Rikki’s mind. “Lots of times, when I went shopping for you, I bought the same for Chaya. Or vice versa.” She smiled almost apologetically. “I like it when my kids match. My boys,” her voice cracked, “and my girls.”

“We really have matching things, Ma?”

“Yes. Some sweaters and pajamas, and this robe.” Mrs. Levy looked into Rikki’s eyes. “How does that make you feel?”

Ezra and Avi always wore the matching outfits, and Rikki thought it cute. She hadn’t thought much about not having a sister with whom to match, but now that she did, it was nice.

“Okay.” A slow smile tugged at Rikki’s lips. “I mean, I guess, good, in a way.”

“All clean and ready for her exercise,” the nurse interrupted.

“Thanks, Maddy, for getting her ready for bed early.”

“You’re very welcome, Mrs. Levy.” Maddy placed her hand on Chaya’s shoulder. “Remember, I told you I was leaving early today? Well, I’m leaving now. You be a good girl for your mom.”

Rikki wondered why Maddy constantly spoke to Chaya as though she understood. She wasn’t sure why, but it frustrated her.

“Hi, Haya.” Jennifer came close and took Chaya’s hands gently into hers. “I’m Jenny.”

Chaya smiled at the young woman.

“We’re going to have some fun. How does that sound?”

Chaya smiled deepened, confusing Rikki. Did Chaya understand?

“Ma?” she said on impulse. She had to know.

Her mother looked at her, but Rikki changed her mind. “Nothing, I just…” her voice trailed off.

“You’re all welcome to stay and cheer her on,” Jennifer said. “I’m sure Haya would like that. Especially you, Rikki. Every big sister wants to impress her little sister.”

Big sister? She hadn’t even thought of Chaya as a member of the family yet.

“Sure,” she said.

“Excellent.” Jennifer pulled a small, stuffed rabbit from her bag. “Say ‘hi’ to the bunny, Haya.” She placed it on Chaya’s lap, and Chaya picked it up and cuddled it in her arms.

Jennifer smiled. “It’s yours to keep.”
“That’s so sweet of you,” Mrs. Levy said.

“The evaluation can be tough on some of the kids I work with, and I found that these bunnies work wonders.”

Jennifer began her evaluation, but Chaya’s focus was completely on the stuffed animal in her arms.

Jennifer coaxed and cajoled, but Chaya refused to cooperate. She hugged the bunny to her heart and pressed her face against the soft fur.

Jennifer blew some loose strands of hair out of her eyes and grinned. “She’s a stubborn one, huh?”

Rikki thought it best to give the exasperated OT some space. She picked up her backpack. “Sorry, I have homework to do.”

Glad to finally be by herself, Rikki searched her bag for the Share and Care envelope. She glanced at her number printed on the outside.

She knew it was crazy to like a number, but somehow 87 suited her.

She tore the flap open and pulled out the card.

Partner #101

Age:13

Hobbies: Reading, writing poetry, dancing

Siblings: 6

Reason for joining: I have a brother with special needs. Lately, I feel that everything is all about him. I’m not really sure where I fit in anymore.

Message: Please don’t think I’m mean. I’m just a regular kid like you who wants a regular life.

Rikki turned the card over, eager to read more, but that’s all there was.

She stuffed the card back into the envelope and placed it in her backpack. Tonight, when Chaya was asleep, she’d write to 101.

To be continued…

(Originally featured inMishpacha Jr., Issue 805)