When I was in second grade, a time when differences among people seem less important, I noticed David. He was a tall boy with deep, black hair shaped into a short crew cut. His glasses were also black-rimmed with an elastic strap to hold them on. Unlike the rest of us, David had not yet mastered tying his tennis shoes, so he had slip-on sneakers. I liked David. He was nice to everyone.

What I didn’t realize is that David was different because he had Down syndrome. His presence in our classroom was part of an emerging, collective effort to mainstream children with intellectual disabilities in public schools.

It was around this same time that Eunice Kennedy Shriver began a sporting camp in her backyard for children like David. That small camp is known today as Special Olympics, a global movement serving children and adults by providing an opportunity to participate in competitive sports.

Our societal language and norms have thankfully changed a great deal since I was a child. We have made space to widen the circle of inclusion, and to ask ourselves, What is normal?

I’ve been a mom for a little over twelve years, and I have four boys, including 10-year-old triplets. My threesome contains a set of identical twins and one fraternal triplet. As I watch them grow, even the two who look so much alike, I know they are all completely different.

One of my triplets reads books without pictures, and the other two turn to graphic novels, basically the comic book of this century.

One boy is shy, one is a performer, and another is somewhere between the two.

Three of my kids are conscientious about homework and staying on task, and the fourth is not. We’re discussing how best to work with him.

Another child has had some mild anxiety, and another is my peacemaker and empathic. He looks deep into my eyes, and if he sees a hint of stress, says, “I think you need a hug.”

Another boy told me not long ago that he wanted to be Princess Zelda, a character in one of his graphic stories, for Halloween. “Okay,” I said, “But she is a girl, and you are not. Is that okay for you to appear in public as a girl? Are you okay with that?” He replied, “Then I guess you’ll have to do my makeup really good!”

The world we live in is diverse, even in this region. When I grew up, I had no Latino friends. Now I have several friends from Mexico, and it is a joy to listen to their perspectives and learn their traditions. When I was young, I didn’t know anyone who was from India. Now, through my sons’ friends, we have friends who are Indian. We’ve been to Indiafest with them, and they have joined us for Thanksgiving. How can one not be happy to have curry and tamales next to the standard turkey and dressing?

While there are always challenges for those who reside in spaces that are not always designed with them in mind (I’m left-handed, and my pie-slicer is only for righties), the rest of us gain from their presence because we learn to stretch. We stretch ourselves, open more doors to diversity and inclusivity, welcome the stranger, experience life from a new perspective, and allow ourselves to walk in someone else’s shoes.

Parents, we know all children are different, unique, and should be treasured for precisely who they are: the best and brightest, every single one of them.

Betsy Singleton Snyder is a pastor, writer and blogger. She is the author of “Stepping on Cheerios: Finding God in the Chaos and Clutter of Life,” and blogs at WomenadeStand.com, a sassy and spiritual spot to dish on the tartest and sweetest pieces of life, stand up together, and reach out in love.

Betsy and her husband, Dr. Vic Snyder, who formerly served in the U.S. House of Representatives, live in Little Rock with their four sons.