Believing In Belief

       The point of issue is not that your belief is the absolute belief of all belief ... rather it is that you have chosen a belief by which you assume that you can live life to the fullest with a semblance of self assurance and harmony.   ... Jim Hill (1940-    )   

     A lifetime of living with  Treacher Collins Syndrome  from 1940 to the present ... sharing experiences and coping methods about being different in day to day living.  

      Treacher Collins Syndrome brings to each of us a myriad of less than pleasant experiences.  It is the reason we are set apart as  ' being different '  but must never be an excuse for being less than the very best we can be. 

Making A Difference Being Different

     Hello.  My name is Jim Hill and this is my story.  It begins September 21, 1940 at a small country hospital in Frontier, Saskatchewan, Canada.

        

  This is my mom and dad.  I wasn't born yet.

                                       

               

                                Here I am with my mom. 

        I have a cleft palate … a partial harelip and eyes that will not close due to the lack of supporting cheekbones.  I am hearing impaired. 

     I grew up on a farm with lots of animals.  There are horses, cows, chickens, cats and dogs.  I can always see the sky and sun.  At night I love to watch the stars.  I am a dreamer.  I see  myself as a strong, handsome and happy little boy.

              

                                         Me & my dog Blackie.

            

                                             School Days

     I am among friends.  As a teenager I was very shy with girls ... afraid they wouldn't like me.  It made me angry, sad and lonely.  There were always girls around me and I fell in love with quite a few but never let them know that.  Later ... I learned that several girls wanted to be my sweetheart.  They thought I didn't like them enough to be more than friends.

                

     I'm celebrating my 21st birthday.  I looked forward to  becoming a man.  There were new challenges and responsibilities.  My horizons broadened and I wanted to go forward with my life.  I bought a little farm ... a place of pleasant solitude ... with tall trees, grass and good water.  I named it  Haven Acres Farm.  I loved harness horse racing and travelled with one of Canada's leading horsemen to Montreal, Quebec where I learned the racing game.  Upon my return home I bought my first horses.

               

     I'm the wild gypsy rover.  I learned to chord on an old guitar and I would sing the songs I learned from my mom and grandma.  I was happy as I sang while dreaming of far away places and great adventures.    

 

     Winning my first race with a horse appropriately named Great Victory.  The administrative department of the horse racing industry appealed to me and I eventually became a race secretary and racing judge.

 

     Carol and I cutting our wedding cake.  I met Carol and her daughter Cheri at a race track.  Carol was a divorced psychiatric nurse.  We shared a love for horses and country living.

  

I'm now in my senior years ... still the dreamer ... seeing myself as a strong, handsome and happy little boy.

     It's taken me well over sixty years to come to terms with being born 'different' !!  I've finally realized that I can make a difference in the lives of others (especially the children). I have been asked 'why now' ?  I reached a point where I was no longer afraid ... no longer holding back on sharing my story. I don't want children to wait sixty years to be free. I'm no longer carrying so much anger and perhaps most importantly of all ... I've learned that its ok to cry.  I told Eva (my kindred spirit and confidant) that I was afraid to cry because I might never be able to stop. She told me that if that were true, then there would be no clowns in the whole world. She's right. Now I cry freely and unashamedly.