There once was a little girl who was happy, active, – albeit a bit prone to anxiety-, but smart…and even a bit cute. Most people would describe her as “a sweet little quiet girl”.
She was the youngest of seven children and fit in that big happy family just perfectly. The little girl’s family wasn’t perfect (what family is?); there was a sickness that chose random victims. The disease was incurable, scary, and made life harder. It was called type 1 diabetes. The little girl’s father, brother, aunt, and two cousins had it.
And one day she got it, too.
She was scared, she had to learn to live differently, more carefully. She had to learn to take shots and prick her finger several times a day.
She really didn’t like this disease. She was mad and sad.
But, she had her big ol’ family to help her. They were all there in one way or another. They taught her, guided her, disciplined her when she did something “bad”. They let her cry on their shoulder, praised her when she did good. They were a good, loving, caring family.
She still struggled, but no matter what, she always knew she wasn’t alone. Even though she made some bad choices, she always knew she was loved and cared about no matter what.
And that is why she kept trying.
There were a few things this disease did that actually helped her in life. It made her learn to be independent and stronger. It made her not afraid of needles and pain. It taught her how to accept what can’t be changed and to be happy anyway.
It taught her that sometimes even when you do everything right, things just don’t work out how you planned.
It taught her to keep trying and persevere.