Mispronunciation, Disability, and the Value of Humanity

Last summer, I worked at a camp for physically disabled kids. I wrestled with a number of deep questions over the course of the summer; one of these was the question of what defines the value and worth of a human being. I don't think you realize the depth and complexity of this question until you are looking into the eyes of a person or child who is obviously physically, emotionally, mentally, or socially disadvantaged.
One of my campers was named Noah. He was almost completely physically disabled; he could swallow, and jerk his hands spasmodically, as well as speak in brief, broken, hard to understand phrases and sentences. Usually I had to lean in very close to understand what he was saying. He was also unhealthily lightweight.
As much difficulty as he was to care for, Noah was probably the sweetest, most affectionate kid that I knew. I don't know if I ever remember him visibly showing a bad attitude, though because his speaking abilities were limited it may have been hard to tell. He always seemed to be cheerful when we woke him up in the morning. At the most inconvenient times, like when I was taking him to the bathroom or changing his clothes, he would get a little smile on his face and with an urgency to his voice, say, "Yook! Yook!" (That was his way of pronouncing my name since he couldn't make the "L" sound with his mouth.) I would stop whatever I was doing, lean in close to him, and say, "What, Noah?" He would say, like he was telling me a secret, "Yook, I yuv you!" I would say, "Yeah, okay Noah," and would go back to whatever I had been doing. Sure enough, a few seconds later I would hear, "Yook! Yook!" And we would do it again.
Well, you can say whatever you want about the physical capabilities of Noah. But when it came down to it, he was just as capable as myself or any other able-bodied person to love, and in fact I think he was more proficient at it.
So I came to the conclusion towards the end of the summer that it is not physical capabilities, social aptitude, or mental health that determines the worth and value of a person. Running, jumping, dancing, talking and thinking are all good things to do, but they are not essential to living a full life. Instead, it is the capacity to love that makes a person a person. And when we exercise that capacity, we truly become God's children.