PATCHES OF LIFE: Clowns that cry

Glade Sun

June 28, 2009

By Bev Schwind / Sun contributor The Crossville Chronicle Sun Jun 28, 2009, 08:37 AM CDT

It was a special end of the year celebration at the Christian School for the special needs children. The year was 1969 and my partner and I were enjoying doing fun shows as clowns and watching people laugh. It was not an easy decision to go to the school as my partner had experienced the birth and short life of a Downs syndrome child. Both of us were nervous. We had been clowns many times but this was a new audience that would teach us many things.

I was the wise clown that was able to do things correctly. My bald looking mask sat low on my head and formed into a big red nose with a happy smiling face beneath it. My friend wore the look of a sad-faced clown. Her pointed dunce hat covered her hair, and white make-up around her eyes showed a sad and almost tearful look.

The calliope music cued us into the classroom and we had our fist glimpse of our audience. Lumps came into our throats as we saw our beaming audience, appreciating our colorful, flowered clown suits. Our impulse, as mothers, was to reach out and hug each child, but we couldn’t just then, we were clowns.

We began our routine. I showed my sad-faced friend how I could jump rope. Then she tried, but I held the rope so tight she missed right away, which usually brought other kids to laughter. I could tell by the response that our audience did not think this was funny and felt sorry for the clown.

I quickly changed the tempo and apologized to my clown friend for not holding the rope properly. She instantly caught the message and then tried again and jumped rope while all the kids clapped and cheered. They had understood her frustrations and celebrated her accomplishments. After that, every time my clown friend imitated my trick, she did it right by the second or third time and the children celebrated. We padded each other on the back and frequently gave each other hugs, which pleased the children.

We noticed one boy had his hands over his ears as we danced about the room. Gradually the fear left his face and his hands returned to his lap. We learned later that this was the first time he had stayed in the room where there was noise. Previously he had escaped to another room and into the arms of a teacher.

We passed out red, purple and blue balloons. The children’s main concern was that everyone had one. They could not enjoy their balloon until they knew that to be true. Not one child asked for a particular color, and when tiny Beth broke her balloon, an older lad immediately gave her his balloon. They had an abundance of love and concern for one another.

When our act was over, we left the room with big smiles on our faces but tears in our eyes. We had received much more than we had given. Our clowning was a ministry to glorify Christ.

The following years we were honored to go to the Special Olympics and hand out medals to all the winners as they completed any event they entered. Everyone was a winner. They were free to do whatever they could do.

We were invited to the Ohio State Fair and did a show for the special needs audience, only now the children were adults but they still had the same loving hearts. They wanted the best for the person participating and to laugh and embrace love.

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