"Adam's humanity was not diminished by his disabilities. Adam's humanity was a full humanity, in which the fullness of love became visible for me, and for others who grew to know him. Yes, I began to love Adam with a love that transcended most of the feelings, emotions, and passions that I had associated with love among people. Adam couldn't say, 'I love you,' he couldn't embrace me spontaneously or express gratitude in words. Still I dare to say we loved each other with a love that was as enfleshed as any love, and was at the same time truly spiritual. We were friends, brothers, bonded in our hearts. Adam's love was pure and true. It was the same as the love that was mysteriously visible in Jesus, which healed everyone who touched him.
"When I go to L'Arche meetings and retreats we are often asked to reflect on the questions: 'Who is the person in your home who showed you that people with disabilities have as much to give as to receive? Who rooted you in your community? Who inspired you to commit yourself to a life with women and men with disabilities? Who invited you to say yes to a life that from the outside looks so uninteresting and so marginal?' I always answer, 'Adam.' Adam was so completely dependent on us that he catapulted me to the essential, to the source. What is community? What is care? What is love? What is life? And who am I, who are we, who is God? Adam was so fully alive to me, and he shed light on all these questions. This experience cannot be understood by a logical explanation, but rather in and through the spiritual bonding of two very different people who discovered each other as completely equal in the heart of God. From my heart I could offer him some care that he really needed, and from his heart he blessed me with a pure and lasting gift of himself."
