Nice job, Maryanne. You passed the test.
But as moms can attest — and a reason they deserve to be celebrated, honored and pampered today — their job is never ending. When they deliver a baby, those in the hospital don’t hand them an alarm clock that goes off after 21 years, signaling the end of their duties. A parent’s hour glass never runs out of sand.
Once a mom, always a mom.
Ferrell was asked about timeline of what she calls the “hardest and most rewarding” job.
“I’m chuckling because I hear myself saying, ‘Okay, this isn’t ever going to end,’” she said a few days before Mother’s Day. “But then you’re like, you don’t want it to end because it’s fun. It’s hard to explain because you want them to grow up and become more independent, but then when they do, you’re like, ‘Now what?’”
That’s a question the Ferrells may have years to answer. Even though Elley is turning 21, she needs constant care from her parents — Lamar Ferrell, pastor of Berachah Church in Middletown, and Maryanne — more than most young adults her age.
Elley was born with spina bifida, a birth defect in which an area of the spinal column doesn’t form properly, leaving a section of the spinal cord and spinal nerves exposed, and hydrocephalus, a neurological disorder, two days before Mother’s Day 2002.
Three months earlier, on Valentine’s Day, Maryanne’s ultrasound detected a possible birth defect. When her doctor diagnosed spina bifida, she remembered the years she volunteered for the March of Dimes in Kentucky where that disorder was “at the top of the list for birth defects.”
The medical professionals “pitched” abortion as a possible option because of the severity of the birth defects. That never was an option for Lamar and Maryanne Ferrell.
At the time, they wanted to know the sex of the baby so they could come up with a name and start their prayer requests. She was named Elley Margaret Ferrell.
She enrolled in programs at Abilities First when she was 3 months old, started putting words together in kindergarten and graduated from Middletown High School in 2021.
In a world that demands everything be faster than a microwave, Elley’s world is more like a crockpot. A few times while talking in the church’s gateway, when asked a question, Elley answered after her mother prompted her with the first letter.
“She helps me get ready in the morning,” Elley said.
And they end every night in bed with a P — “prayer,” Elley said.
“We are a ... starts with a T,” her mother said.
“Team,” Elley said.
The education goes the other way, too. We all can learn from Elley. We all have special needs. Some just aren’t as visible as a wheelchair.
“The first word that comes to mind is patience because things take a lot longer,” her mother said of lessons she has learned. “She’s just willing to even though it may take longer and she has to do it differently, she will push through. You don’t realize that you have to be patient and be grateful for every victory you have.”
The victories have been many for Elley.
She was the inspiration behind the church building a handicapped-accessible playground called “Elley’s Hope Playground Park” and the church hosting “One Special Night,” a yearly event for special needs children where everyone is crowned a king or queen.
Ferrell said the Middletown couple, even without raising Elley, would have had “a heart for special needs” children. But being around that lifestyle 24 hours a day, seven days a week for the last 21 years has intensified that compassion.
“We have lived it,” she said. “God has used Elley to take it to a new level.”
She also may be the church’s most effective evangelist. She invites anyone who will listen to church and passes out cards to restaurant servers. Berachah has a group for those in junior high and older called Special Needs Achieving Purpose (SNAP) that typically draws 12 to 15 every Sunday morning.
Elley is active in Project Life, a program that teaches special needs students job skills and opportunities, and has volunteered at Abilities First Golf Outing at Wildwood Golf Club and at the Middie Olympics for student with disabilities at MHS.
About that time, the overhead lights in the church lobby turned off. Elley guided her wheelchair to the middle of the room trying to activate the motion detectors. The lights came back on.
That brought a smile to Maryanne Ferrell’s face.
“When God calls you to be a mom, you just do it,” she said. “You want to fulfill that role to the best of your ability He’s given you. It’s just a great, great opportunity and I’m humbled.”
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