Big blue eyes that light up whenever he greets the day.  A crop of wavy, fire engine-red hair atop his perfectly formed head.  A huge dimpled smile in a round, freckled face. 

This is what I see whenever I look at my son, Jackson Tanner.  

That's the way it should be.

Yes, he's disabled.  So what!  He is a boy first and foremost!

I just wish other people would see what I see whenever I look at my son.  The world would be a much nicer place if they were more open, more accepting, of my child!

My son, Jackson Tanner, is three years old.  It's only been in the last year where he's been able to walk.  Right now he uses a wheeled walker to propel himself from place to place; bumps or falls don't seem to slow him down one bit.  Hopefully before he starts school, he will graduate to crutches.

My name is Haney Ridenour.  I live in Palo Alto, California, with my husband, Randall, and our two children, our six-year-old daughter, Jewel Rose, and Jackson.  They are the lights of my world; I can't imagine my life without them!

I am a homemaker; my husband, meanwhile, is a stockbroker.  Due to the economy, he's not working as many hours, and there's talk of layoffs; I pray this doesn't happen!  I don't know what we would do for income!

Anyway, my son has taught me about patience, perserverence, trust, love, compassion, and, above all else, courage.  He is my greatest teacher.  It is because of him that I've come to accept people, whether they are disabled or not.

I used to have a problem with people who were disabled.  I'd never really been around them; to see their twisted bodies, crutches, missing limbs, guide dogs, hearing aids, or scars from surgeries/accidents/illness made me very uncomfortable.  I tended to avoid disabled people at all costs; I felt it was better this way.

Little did I know I would, in fact, parent "one of them".  I had no idea my son was disabled until he was about six months old.  He wasn't reaching his developmental milestones; this was when doctors suspected he had a problem.

I refused to believe that something was amiss with Jackson.  Maybe it was just a nightmare I hoped I would wake up from; he would be okay, I surmised.  The doctor snapped me back into reality on that day when he told me, "Mrs. Ridenour, I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, but we've figured out why your son has been having delays.  He has cerebral palsy."

"Cerebral palsy".  One of the ugliest words in the English-speaking world. 

At the news, I folded.  I cried until I thought I'd never stop.  My child, my precious baby boy, was disabled; he would be so for the rest of his life.  He would always need help in some fashion, in order to make it in a cold, unforgiving world not geared for children who were like him.

For a while, I became very depressed.  I dreaded what the future held; it was my mom (and my doctor) who told me that I needed to be there for my son; if he was to make it in life, I needed to change my attitude, my way of thinking.

They suggested I take a parenting class for children with special needs.  I did just that.  It was an eye-opening experience.  It was there where I  met other parents who were facing the same challenges as I was; I realized I wasn't alone. 

Compared to some of the people, what Jackson was going through with his cerebral palsy was just a drop in the bucket.  I met a man who had a son who was dying of some genetic disease; at the age of four, his son was totally helpless, unable to do anything for himself.  Another mother had a daughter who was blind, deaf, and mute. 

Suddenly, Jackson's cerebral palsy didn't seem so major.  He would probably lag behind other children in doing things, but in time, he would learn.  There was hope for him.

He's proven that.  Now at the age of three, he's walking.  Talking.  Playing.  Laughing.  Discovering the world around him.  He's like any typical three-year-old boy; he just can't walk on his own yet.  He can walk, with help, but he IS walking.  He's proved to doctors what he can do; he is my miracle-child!

There's no telling what the future may hold for Jackson.  I will tell you this:  once he is able to get around on crutches, there will be no holding him back!  He's a go-getter, a people-person; everyone who sees him loves him!

Jackson isn't hopeless; he's a child full of hope and he can do anything he sets his little mind to!  I just thank God I'm his mother, and I thank Him every day for all that he's accomplished in three short years!