Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84Plough Quarterly • Autumn 2016 19 be in the late twenties to early thirties, today, thanks to medical innovation, it has risen to fifty or sixty years – an advance that presents its own challenges. In the United States, individu- als with disabilities receive few federal and state services after age twenty-one, even though this is often the time when their needs become more complex. We were extremely lucky not to have financial worries – more about that later – but families we knew struggled to cover the costs of medicine, therapies, adaptive equipment, and sometimes live-in caregivers. I can’t sugarcoat it: disability is tough. But does this mean that Iris’s life is primarily one of suffering? Would the rest of us have been happier without her? Decide for yourself. Iris has a spunky, bubbly personality. She is drawn to others like a bee to nectar, effortlessly overcoming interpersonal barriers. We call her our “family ambassador” because she is always the first to go out of her way to connect with new people. Once she has established a relationship, we need only to say “We are Iris’s family” to become fast friends. She sympathizes deeply with anyone in need: when she hears a news story about a violent incident halfway around the world, it hits her as though the victims were family. Iris’s contagious guffaw can enliven an entire concert hall. (We’ve joked that she could earn a handsome income as a laugh starter.) Whether or not she understands an attempted joke, she’ll let loose without a moment’s hesita- tion. She remembers the characters played by childhood friends in grade-school theater productions, and continues to address them decades later by their stage names. Including in church. After celebrating the Lord’s Supper, church members customarily greet one another with the words “peace and unity.” At one such occasion, Iris spotted a beloved classmate and her gravelly voice rang out, “Princess Gloriana! Peace and unity!” In her freedom from intellectual hubris, Iris seems able to perceive spiritual realities the rest of us cannot. Once a close friend of hers who had moved abroad – I’ll call her Sandra – was especially on Iris’s mind. For weeks, Iris asked me repeatedly how Sandra was doing. In exas- peration one day I said, “Let’s phone her and see!” Hearing Iris’s voice on the line, Sandra was incredulous. “You know, I just heard today that my dad passed away. He’s been very sick in hospital for a while now. Thank you so much for calling.” Another friend Iris took to mentioning incessantly was a woman I’ll call Eleanor. We all got tired of hearing, over and over, how amazing Eleanor was. One day, to our shock, we received news that Eleanor had been diagnosed with late-stage cancer. I wondered if we’d been deaf to an urgent message Iris had insistently tried to convey: treasure Eleanor and pray for her. Photograph courtesy of the author The author and her sister