The Accessible Gingerbread House
I am such a sucker for a good holiday tradition. I love the idea of getting bundled in a warm car, hot chocolate in hand, and Christmas music playing in the background while driving around neighborhoods in search of pretty Christmas lights. I like a good firework show and an even better birthday celebration. You ask me to plan a party and I will give you 1,000%. However, holidays and celebrations can be hard for my family. I have two adopted children and sometimes holidays mean triggered memories from past experiences. It can also mean being overstimulated for my son who has disabilities, no cute family photos, and lots of planning and still “failing.” It can mean family and friends who don’t understand. And it can also mean making new, beautiful, and special memories together.
In 2021, one of these special memories involved my son and a gingerbread house. Like I said, I love a good tradition so making gingerbread houses was an immediate “Yes!” for me. However, as a special needs mom the “Yes” doesn’t stop there. It now involves thinking through any difficulties that might arise, so our “fun” activity doesn’t quickly turn south. I have to be purposeful in creating modifications to the typical gingerbread house plans and have a careful eye on my son while also trying to balance his independence and safety. I began to clean up as our gingerbread house project was nearing completion and the mess of bedtime routines were nearing the corner. However, my son wasn’t ready to be finished. This is nothing new. I mean, what kid wants to stop doing something fun to go to bed? I told him several times that it was time to clean up, but he responded saying,
“Can I do one more thing?”
“One more thing, that’s it,” I compromise.
Several minutes later he yells, “Mom look!”
Like most moms who are asked to look, I turn around ready to put on a super impressed expression for whatever my son has to show me. (Parents, you know what I’m talking about). Usually, it involves a stick figure drawing or him doing a flip for the thirtieth time. But this time when I turned around, I was more than impressed, I was moved to tears.
“It’s a banquet thing mommy,” he said as I examine the gingerbread house addition.
I notice a small chocolate bar ramp connecting the front door to the yard. I ask him to explain what he means but I’m not ready for the words that follow.
He says, “I needed to make sure people with disabilities can come in the house too.”
I pause and smile at him. I’m so incredibly proud of him. He gets it.
“You know mommy it’s like what you do at The Banquet Network,” he says, as he pulls up his sweatshirt to reveal his favorite Banquet Network t-shirt. In that moment, my momma heart was so overwhelmed!
What if the church was like this gingerbread house and what if church leaders had eyes to see like my son did that day? What if we, as the Church, made sure that people who have disabilities can “come in the house too?” Or even, come into heaven! If the Church values the lives of people who have disabilities, we must actively and intentionally make accommodations for the sake of these individuals’ souls.
At The Banquet Network, we offer free coaching, consultation, and training on disability inclusion. If you’re a church and you’re interested in working with us, go to thebanquetnetwork.com/interestform to request coaching! We would love to work with you!
Though our services are free, we cannot accomplish the mission of The Banquet Network completely free of costs! So, if you’re interested in supporting the Kingdom work we take part in, go to thebanquetnetwork.com/donate to learn about ways you can support us!
Katie Matthews is the Executive Director for The Banquet Network. For more stories like this one, go to our blog page, or click to connect, learn or donate to the mission of The Banquet Network.