House hopping

 My local church women's ministry has this tradition every spring to do a "progressive dinner." Ladies in three homes (in fairly close proximity to each other) volunteer to host different courses of the meal - appetizers, entrees, and desserts. The host ladies set up their space and provide sufficient food (in their designated course) for 30 women, who sign up ahead of time. The purpose of it is multi-layered... participants get to see and enjoy homes that they may or may not have previously visited, a meal becomes an event that lasts longer but is more active and engaging, and every time you arrive at a new house you have the opportunity to mix and mingle with different ladies. Sounds like fun, right? 

Actually, for me it sounded stressful and awkward. That's because there are very few homes that I can easily access without a lot of fuss. It's just easier to host things at my own house or have a more public destination like the church fellowship hall or a restaurant. When I heard announcements about the event last year, I didn't even try to consider participating, and this year I had the same intention. It was totally fine, no offense taken or hurt feelings; the women's ministry is awesome and they do a lot of events that I enjoy attending, but this would just not be one of them. 

Except... this year was different. This year I had friends who have been learning with me what creative accessibility can look like. 

A couple weeks before the event, my friend Amy approached me and said, "Are you not signing up for the progressive dinner because you are nervous about getting inside the houses?" When I reluctantly admitted that was the case, she quickly and confidently responded: "Because we will figure it out!" She explained that the entree course was going to be at the house where my small group meets, so we already have a ramp (stashed in their garage) for that one. The house where the appetizers would be has a very similar "step situation" in the garage, so someone could just take the same ramp from one house to the next, and voila! two houses are accessible. The dessert house, she told me, only had one step inside the front door, and I have short ramps that I keep in my car for such a situation. So... this could work!

My friend Julie picked me up that night and we carpooled with other ladies from house to house, and several others were happy - even delighted - to help transport and set up the ramps. The hostesses even gave forethought to the arrangement of their furniture and optimal spaces where I could easily and comfortably eat and socialize. 

I'm telling you, it was so much fun, and I felt so loved!!  



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