The Deaf MUST "hear" the Gospel!
Expressions From the Heart

 

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Listen carefully and you will hear the heart beat of the Deaf. You will gain access to their world and their understanding and culture. You are privileged to be allowed to glimpse inside their world. Handle it gently. Allow yourself to feel what they feel, to experience what they have experienced. Allow it to impact your heart and then to bond you with this world. If you do, you will be forever changed...

Silent Hands

Can you hear me?
Listen, not with your ears
But with your eyes.
To you they speak,
My silent hands.
Hear me tell my tale.
Hear me sing my song.
Learn my language,
My beautiful native language.
Hear my hands,
Hear my music and story.
Learn my language.
Speak to me with your hands.
Share my beautiful language.
Hear my silent hands.
We have a tale to tell,
A song to sing.
Open your eyes
And hear me speak.

Author: Sandra L. Brooks

 

Thoughts of a Deaf Child

My family knew that I was deaf
When I was only three, and since then fifteen years ago
Have never signed to me.
I know when I'm around the house,
I try and use my voice,
It makes them feel more comfortable;
For me, I have no choice.
I try, communicate their way-
Uncomfortable for me.
My parents wouldn't learn sign
Ashamed or apathy?
I never cared about the sound of radios and bands;
What hurts me most is, I never heard
My parents' signing hands.


Stephen J. Bellitz, Reprinted from Senior News, July 1991

 

 

ON HIS DEAFNESS (with thanks to John Milton) New.gif

When I consider how my silence is spent,
Where I am isolated from the world of voices,
And that the one gift I have, I tried to deny,
Instead I tried to understand, and pretend
To be Normal, till my soul whispered:
In God you will find your true center.
‘How does God expect me to serve; I am deaf’
I fondly ask. But Dignity quells that cry
of rejection and pity. ‘God does not need
either man’s industry or his praise. Those who serve
God best have an honest spirit. His truth
brings freedom: thousands of deaf obey His Word
And tirelessly connect with everyone:
They also serve those in complete acceptance.

Guy Mcilroy 2010

 

"My Mothers Hands"  New.gif

I remember as child, I would Look at her talking with her Hands.
Wondering to myself Can she Really understand.

Can she really hear me?
Or is this all just pretend?
Mom! Mom! I shout! --With no Flinch or a face that looks About.

I speak words clearly into her Ears,
But she signs to me there Were no Words that she could Hear.
I grow to learn her silent world.

People around her just smile And wave;
Not knowing she's a person Too wanting to be saved.

She is a woman,
A mother of two.
She begs for patience and Understanding from just a few.

As I grow older I sit back and Watch Her;
She is now solely dependent On my father.
My father works hard and is Always here.
To her he signs "you have Nothing to fear".

Now they've grown old and Years have passed by,
Heaven calls my father home Without even a goodbye.
Now she is in a room full of People with a voice.
She's sits quietly by herself Without a Choice.

Saddened, I see her cry out,
"The Lord is my Shepherd" the Best she can.
So beautifully done in signing Of my mothers hands.

~ Audrey Shaffer

 

DEAF IN CHURCH

I hear no prayer,
I hear no songs,
I feel no atmosphere,
Born deaf, trapped alone in this glass box world of mine,
Why am I drawn to the church so?
Why am I attracted to the cross?
I hear no prayer,
I hear no songs,
I feel no atmosphere,
But within the dead silence of me,
Next to the vibration of my beating heart
And tinnitus of forever worsening hearing loss.
I feel the healing power of Jesus and the presence of God.
They share my box with me, no longer alone I feel.

by Susan Ellingham

 

Ode to a Deaf Child . . .

One day I saw a little child as lovely as a flower,
She danced and ran, she jumped and turned ...
I watched her for an hour.

This child of God was all the things I'd want my own to be,
Magnificent of heart and limb a curiosity.

But when God made this little one he didn't give her sound,
He left her in silent world where quiet is profound.

A deep abyss, a lonely world, away from all who hear,
To never know the voice of man in happiness or fear.

And as I watched her hands make pictures in the air,
A silent unknown rhythm that I could never share.

For in this world of silence the hearing rarely go,
Because they lack the picture words it never can be so.

This causes me to wonder about the world of sound,
What is it that we're missing where the silence is profound?

And then I knew the answer, it suddenly was there--
To live and love together means people have to share.

Thus in the world of picture words where pretty symbols flow,
The meanings of I LOVE YOU is there for all who know.

And so I guess the world of sound will stay a world apart,
Until it learns the picture words, it cannot share the same heart.



Philip A. Bellefleur, Ph.D.

 

My Hands

God chose that I should never talk
and share a voice with you.
My world will be a silent one--
my ears hears nothing, too.

Why was it I was chosen to be
so all alone--
My inner voice was asking if
the answer could be known.

Then I look into the mirror and
saw good things looking back,
I had to take the positives--
put them on the right track.

I thought a lot about it,
and now I want to shout,
The wondrous gifts God gave me
outnumber what He left out.

So let me take the challenge in
meetings life's demands--
I have the power to change things,
and it lies here in my hands.

Stevie Drown

You Have to be Deaf to Understand

What is it like to "hear" a hand?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like to be a small child,
In a school, in a room void of sound --
With a teacher who talks and talks and talks;
And then when she does come around to you,
She expects you to know what she's said?
You have to be deaf to understand.

Or the teacher thinks that to make you smart,
You must first learn how to talk with your voice;
So mumbo-jumbo with hands on your face
For hours and hours without patience or end,
Until out comes a faint resembling sound?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like to be curious,
To thirst for knowledge you can call your own,
With an inner desire that's set on fire --
And you ask a brother, sister, or friend
Who looks in answer and says, "Never Mind"?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What it is like in a corner to stand,
Though there's nothing you've done really wrong,
Other than try to make use of your hands
To a silent peer to communicate
A thought that comes to your mind all at once?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like to be shouted at
When one thinks that will help you to hear;
Or misunderstand the words of a friend
Who is trying to make a joke clear,
And you don't get the point because he's failed?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like to be laughed in the face
When you try to repeat what is said;
Just to make sure that you've understood,
And you find that the words were misread --
And you want to cry out, "Please help me, friend"?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like to have to depend
Upon one who can hear to phone a friend;
Or place a call to a business firm
And be forced to share what's personal, and,
Then find that your message wasn't made clear?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like to be deaf and alone
In the company of those who can hear --
And you only guess as you go along,
For no one's there with a helping hand,
As you try to keep up with words and song?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like on the road of life
To meet with a stranger who opens his mouth --
And speaks out a line at a rapid pace;
And you can't understand the look in his face
Because it is new and you're lost in the race?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like to comprehend
Some nimble fingers that paint the scene,
And make you smile and feel serene,
With the "spoken word" of the moving hand
That makes you part of the word at large?
You have to be deaf to understand.

What is it like to "hear" a hand?
Yes, you have to be deaf to understand.




(Written at 1971 by Willard J. Madsen, professor of journalism at Gallaudet University. This poem was translated into seven different languages and reprinted in publications, including DEAF HERITAGE, p. 380.)

 

A Deaf Child's Prayer

Do the angels sing in Heaven, Lord?
Will I hear music there?
Or must I stand in a corner
While others join in prayer?
While I wonder what they're saying Lord,
As oft I do down here?
Must I sit in lonely stillness
While the bells ring loud and clear?
Can I read your lips in Heaven,
Lord Will I be brushed aside,
And stick my hands in pockets
Because of wounded pride?
Will all the saints there praise thee,
While I in silence wait?
Will some one up in Heaven
Help me through the gate?

Then God, who loves the humble,
Whispered in the poor deaf ear
My child, has no one told you,
There is no silence here.
Hold out your hands, my little one,
For Heaven all to see.
We've heard them pray so many times,
Each prayer reached up to Me.
See, all the angels waiting.
The gates are open wide.
Your crown of life awaits you,
And I shall be your guide.
I have a song to give you,
You'll sing both loud and clear.
And the song you sing, my dear one,
Will be the sweetest song up here.

Doris Isbell (McDonald) Crowe'
Registered Interpreter for the Deaf,
Employee of a International Relay System
for the Deaf , sponsored by the F.C.C.

We received this communication from the author of this poem and thought it may be of great interest to our readers:
Yes, you may use the story, it is printed in my book that I wrote which is now a collectors item and rare... can't find but about 4 in the U.S.A. online... they are selling for about $250.00.

I wrote this poem in June of 1955. I am a hearing child (C.O.D.A.) of deaf parents. My deaf father drowned in a boating accident that took the life of two other deaf individuals. The poem was read at his funeral on June 14, 1955. I submitted the poem to my English teacher and she assisted me in securing a copyright of it at that time.

The poem is also printed and copyrighted in the book that I authored, "Dummy's Little Girl" by Doris Isbell Crowe', 1993. So I have the legal rights to the poem.

I also have my own line of ILY figurines (D Cro Creations , copyrighted and pictured in ADCOHEARING.com catalog).

 

What is it Like to be Deaf

What is it like to be deaf?
People have asked me.
Deaf? Oh, hmmmm, how do I explain that?
Simply, I can't hear.

Noooo, it is much more than that.
It is similar to a goldfish in a bowl.
Always observing things going on.
People talking all the time.
It is being a man on his own island
Among foreigners.

Isolation is not a stranger to me.
Relatives say "hi" and "bye".
But I sit for five hours among them.
Taking great pleasure at amusing babies.
Reading books, resting, helping out with food.

Natural curiosity perks up
Upon seeing great laughter, crying, people upset.
Inquire only to meet with "never mind",
"Oh, it is not important".
Getting such a summarized statement
of a whole story.

Supposed to smile to show the happiness.
Little do they know how truly miserable I am.
People are in control of language usage,
I am at loss and real uncomfortable.

Always feeling like an outsider
Among the hearing people
Even if it was not their intention.
Always assume that I am part of them
By my physical presence, not understanding
The importance of communication.

Facing the choice between the Deaf Camping
Weekend and Family Reunion.
Facing the choice between the family commitment
and Deaf friends,

I must make the choice constantly,
And wonder why I choose Deaf friends???
I get such great pleasure at Deaf Clubs,
Before I realize, it is already 2 am
Whereas I anxiously look at the clock
Every few minutes at the family reunion.

With Deaf people, I am so normal,
Our communication flows back and forth,
Catching up with little trivials, our daily life,
Our frustration in the bigger world,
Seeking the mutual understanding.

Contented smiles, and laughing are musical.
So magical to me
So attuned to each other's feeling.
Truly happiness is so important.
I feel more at home with Deaf people
Of various colors, religions, short or tall,
Than I do among with my own hearing relatives.
And wonder why?
Our language is common.
We understand each other.

Being at a loss of control
Of environment, that is, communication,
People panic and retreat to avoidance,
Deaf people are like the plague.

But Deaf people are still human beings
With dreams, desires and needs
Of belonging, just like everyone else.

By Dianne (Switras) Kinnee
(This email address may be out of date)

 

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Original Page date - January 28, 1999
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