To See a Volcano By April MacNeil My son sits across the aisle from me, his whole body beaming with anticipation. Playfully puts on the headphones handed to him by the stewardess. He turns to me and signs, "I didn't know there were movies on planes." I just smiled, wanting to laugh-and cry. You see, Kevin is a handsome, blonde, blue-eyed fourteen-year-old, who has been deaf since birth. But throughout his life, I have tried to teach him not to give up. And he hasn't, excelling in both academics and sports. In the fall of 1997, I received a phone call from his teacher. She suspected that Kevin was having problems with his vision. We took him to the doctor and they told us that he had Usher's Syndrome. His peripheral vision will get narrower and narrower until eventually, he will be completely blind. "How? This can't be true," I cried. How could my dear, sweet son be both deaf and blind? It was incomprehensible to me. When I finally was able to muster up enough courage, the counseling staff at his school helped me break the news to Kevin. He sat quietly, paying close attention to this diagnosis-a deaf person's worst fear. He is a brave young man but, from his body language, I knew that he wanted to cry. However, he made sure the tears waited. With all of his strength and smile he simply asked, "Can I please go back to class now?" Kevin's world was closing in on him and I struggled against the rage and injustice of it all. A short time later, after putting some of my anger and fears of the future aside, I asked Kevin, "Before things really change, what one thing do you want to see more than anything else?" He thought for quite a while and then said, "A volcano...I want to see a volcano, in Hawaii." I choked back my tears and responded simply, "I'll see what I can do," all the while knowing that short of a miracle, there was no way I could take him to Hawaii. I spoke to everyone...
