It's a bit more lengthly than the average blog post, but please if you have the time, read it. It's very dear to my heart, if I may say that without sounding too cliche.
The tears drip down my cheeks and I look at Fran. I'm only 11, but I know she's different. her eyes are a bit far apart, the bridge of her nose is a little flat and there's a gap between her big and index toes that is bigger than the gap between my own. She's round and her skin is dusted pink, her blond hair rigidly framing her face.
My mom says Fran is a "Downs baby," and my aunt has tried to explain it, but the words mean very little at the time.