Jeremiah was a little guy so full of life and energy and charisma. He charmed everyone, leaving a lasting impression on every single person he came in contact with. When Mick and I first met Jeremiah, our lives were changed forever as we were immediately spell bound and wrapped around his little finger, never again to be the same. What a blessing and gift!

Jeremiah loved toys that vibrated, made noise, and twinkled with flashing lights. He was always on the go and seldom happy sitting down. He loved to explore anywhere and everywhere. He would take Mick’s hand and off they would go walking, no particular destination in mind. And if he got tired of walking he loved to be pushed in one of his three or four-wheelers (oh, do not call them strollers or wheelchairs!) or off for a ride in the car or pickup. Jeremiah loved to be on the move.

He was Mick’s best buddy and my beloved. Although having several disabilities which included (Intellectual Developmental Disabilities) IDD, Deaf/Blind, and being non-verbal, The J-man was amazing in his ability to compensate. Every day with Jeremiah brought adventure and amazement.

There is a passage in the novel, The Clowns of God, by Morris West, which I know he wrote just for us fortunate enough to have such special children in our lives. The Lord reveals to mankind the importance of special children: “I know what you are thinking – you need a sign. What better one could I give than to make this little one whole and new? I could do it, but I will not. I am the Lord and not a conjurer. I gave this mite a gift I denied to all of you – eternal innocence. To you, he looks imperfect but to me he is flawless like the bud that dies unopened or the fledgling that falls from the nest to be devoured by the ants. He will never offend me, as all of you have done. He will never pervert or destroy the work of my Father’s hands. He is necessary to you. He will evoke the kindness that will keep you human. His infirmity will prompt you to gratitude for your own good fortune. More! He will remind you every day that I am who I am, that my ways are not yours, and that the smallest dust mite, while in darkest space, does not fall out of my hand. I have chosen you. You have not chosen me. This little one is my sign to you. Treasure him!” ― Morris West, The Clowns of God

Yes. “This little one is my sign to you. Treasure him!” And we did, and we still do