Nichole walked into the eye clinic ready to get her glasses fixed – she knew what to do – she sat at the open desk before one of the two attendants who work there and smiled. This was a new attendant to us, one we had never worked with before. I recognized “the look” right away. The way people sometimes look at my daughter, who has Down syndrome, and they are not sure what to expect or how to interact with her.

“How can I help you today?” She asked.

“Nichole is here to get the new lenses for her glasses.” I said.

“Can I have your glasses?” She asked Nichole.

“Mmh-huh.” Nichole took off her glasses and handed them to the attendant.

While she went to the back office, Nichole sat patiently, arms folded, saying, “I es-ited!”

“Yes, I would be excited too if I got new lenses with no scratches in them!” I said.

The attendant returned and handed her the glasses, “Should we try them on?”

Nichole reached for them and put them on, “Yay! Tenk-you!”

“Do you want to see how they look?” The attendant said.

“Yes.”

The attendant turned a large mirror on her desk so Nichole could see herself in it.

“Wow!” Nichole said, “I love it! Mom look.”

“They look really nice sweetheart.”

“Nina, your turn?”

Nina, her sister, was looking at frames and trying them on because her eye appointment was coming up, and we knew she would need new glasses. Nina had been very careful to maneuver her walker in such a tight office space, and she was carefully trying on frames.

“Yes, it will be my turn next week.”

And then I noticed it, “the look” was gone. I don’t know when it fell away replaced by a genuine smile, but it made my heart happy.

As we said goodbye the attendant said, “Your girls are really well behaved.” Yes, my girls were well behaved, but I knew what her statement meant, although she might not have realized it yet, “I didn’t know what to expect, and what I discovered was an enjoyable little girl who made me smile and really like her.”

Such a simple interaction, yet so powerful. By being herself, Nichole changed someone’s perspective, maybe even someone’s heart.

As Nichole’s mother, I see myself as her advocate. Often times I see it as standing up for her, being her voice when she needs me to be, educating people, bringing awareness. But on that day I discovered that she is her best advocate, and she didn’t have to do anything special, speak up, or show the greatness of her abilities.

All she had to do was smile at the attendant and with those beautiful almond shaped eyes, her open and inviting smile, her excitement over new lenses, and with just that she allowed the attendant to see what we see: she is a little girl full of life and love.

The next day Nichole and I returned to the clinic, this time to pick up a prescription for her sister. As we walked by the vision space, we heard someone call out, “Hey!” it was the attendant, waving at us, big smile. Nichole and I waved back. Nichole touched her life in some way, no matter how small.