When talking about disability, family, and faith, Rafael “Rafa” Martínez Echeverría spoke for his entire family. They have the privilege — and also the responsibility — of caring for Iñigo (or Iñiguete, as they affectionately call him), a son who came to make them laugh, smile, and pray.
He explains Iñigo’s background:
From the 20th week of pregnancy, we moved into a special league: the league of extraordinary children. A cerebral infarction interrupted his normal development. Communication between the ventricles of the brain was damaged, and cerebrospinal fluid began to accumulate on the right side of his head. The prognosis was uncertain: he might not survive the pregnancy, or could die shortly after birth, or live with severe sequelae.
The little boy is alive and growing today, and although he has disabilities, his life is valued and meaningful.
The two sides of the coin
With Iñigo, Rafa soon discovered that there are two sides to every coin. He admits that changing the diapers of an eight-year-old boy isn’t a pleasant task. However, as soon as he sees the smile with which Iñiguete thanks him, he understands that sometimes carrying the cross is rewarding. And these small scenes from everyday life reveal that suffering is not a dead end.
He explains that when an extraordinary situation — such as disability — comes to affect a family, it’s easy for the marriage to suffer. The spouses can start to vent their frustration and pain against each other. In the midst of that trial, he learned the true meaning of the word for spouses in his native Spanish, “conyuge”: people who share the same yoke. If both pull in the same direction, the yoke becomes easier to bear; but if each pulls in a different direction, it hurts and causes more damage.
That’s why he encourages people not to be afraid to ask for help. He points out that, just as the fight against cancer has normalized the use of psychological support, in the case of disability, such support is also absolutely necessary.
Rafa also insists that these children are extraordinary because they bring out the best in everyone.
“When someone approaches a child with a disability, they almost always try to make them smile, even if it means talking to them in a silly voice,” he says with a laugh. “These are children who have come to change the world.”
The mission to help families
It was with this conviction that he founded the “Rescatadores” (“Rescuers”) Association. Because these children, he says, are true rescuers: “They come to save us from our foolishness, from navel-gazing, from forgetting what is essential, and from not knowing how to enjoy the present.”
But they’re also “Ferrari” children: like an expensive car, they require a great deal of care, attention, and resources, which is very demanding for families. That is why “Rescatadores wants us all to contribute to making life easier for them and for the families who take them into their homes.”
Rafa also admits that he had never been very devoted to relics. However, he says, it’s very easy to say that when you don’t need them because you have a saint at home. That’s why he wanted to remind all families — and all people who know a family with a special, extraordinary child — that these little ones are going straight to heaven.
“When you look at a child who is incapable of doing evil, you’re looking at a saint, someone who will be our great help when we come into God's presence.”
At the end of the conversation, a luminous certainty remained: Iñiguete, and so many children like him, are not a burden, but a gift. A gift that rescues us from ourselves, that reminds us of what is essential and teaches us, in our daily lives, what is truly extraordinary: learning to love.
