As a child growing up in South Africa in the 70's and 80's, Barbie dolls were a rare sight. But we did have Sindy dolls. Sindy dolls were slightly stockier in build than Barbie (I put it down to their athleticism - Sindy dolls were ballerina's!), had bendable arms, wrists and legs and feet, which meant if you were a little dancer besotted with ballet (like me!), you could contort her arms into first position and extend her hypermobile legs way beyond her head into a gawky, funny looking arabesque.

The problem, however, was with the hands. The little buggers had a knack of falling off! After playing with my ballerina one afternoon, her hand fell off again and try as I might, I could not find it (to this day I suspect it was our family dog, a boxer, who would not admit to the deed or for that matter regurgitate it either....)

H0urs of searching ended up in tears as I realised my doll would be disabled forever. I made a few attempts to cut her a 'hand' in the shape of a mitten (I had no luck trying to snip out tiny finers...they frayed) out of blue gingham scraps my mother offered. My doll had a prosthetic hand, but hey, she could still dance!

My daughter has cerebral palsy. I maintain my Sindy doll was God's way of preparing me for what was to come.

Her name is Grace. She has a twin brother, Geoff. They shared a sister in the same womb, at the same time, but we lost her months later to a nasty infection which is common in children born three months prematurely.

Grace is the child I expected to lose. She teased us twice into saying our goodbye's to her. She chose life and hung on, suffering brain and lung bleeds.

Miraciously, her disability is not mentally. The war she fought shows up in her altered gait. But her real wound is the sight lost in her right eye to ROP - Retinopathy of prematurity - where the retina cruelly detatches from the eye. Thankfully, it arrested independently in the left eye - meaning she has semi good vision in that one.

They say God chooses parents for special needs children. I used to think it was something people just said to make you feel better as they looked at your child akwardly, fumbling for words. The guilt and remorse you suffer on a daily basis, did not seem to me, the likely gift from God.

I blamed myself, my ex husband, her genetics! I cursed myself for seeking fertility treatment

to force myself against my body's wishes into motherhood. I asked to die.

But through the years, admist the pain, the tears, the consoling, the therapy, the endless forms to fill out, the agonising medicial decisions, the fights, exhaustion, endless, sleepless nights.....I have come to accept that I am blessed!

Its taken her 10 years to make me acknowledge that I would never exchange her for a 'normal' child - that her disabilities mean she has an 'old soul' wise beyond her years, a wicked sense of humour, a smile that inspires and delights all who meet her, a loving nature that makes me suspect I am entertaining an angel, and a sensitivity to the needs of both animals and humans which would put most people to shame.

My child does not have a functioning eye, just like that Sindy doll did not have a functioning hand, but still she chooses to see the good and best in every situation in her life, and as distorted as her legs are, hey, she can still dance!