Aida and Flavio Gutierrez are your typical proud parents.

Angelyn Gutierrez, 9, a bright, upbeat, eager-to-please child inspires much of their pride.

Walk into the family’s West Kendall home and one of the first items on display is a framed Honor Roll certificate signed by the principal of Tropical Elementary School that notes Angelyn’s progress in the fourth grade at the Kendall school.

Another award is on the way later this month, “for having all A’s,” says Aida, 41, smiling at her daughter. “She’s a very smart girl. We work very hard with her.”

The frame sits near Angelyn’s special computer and homework board where, on a recent afternoon, she worked on vocabulary words with her parents and nurse Lorayne Horscheck, who doubles as a tutor. The two share a bond. “I’m learning, too, and she knows that I’m learning,” Horscheck says.

A book bag emblazoned with the image of teen pop star Justin Bieber rests on a table. Of course, Angelyn has Bieber fever.

Angelyn has come so far over the years, but it hasn’t been easy. Diagnosed with cerebral palsy when she was 6 months old, Angelyn is totally dependant on her parents to handle all of her basic needs, writes Evelyn Alvarez of the Agency for Persons With Disabilities who, along with Maria Springer, nominated Angelyn for The Miami Herald’s 2011 Wish Book.

She is unable to talk. She can’t walk or sit and stand without support. Often, she needs support to hold her head up, and occasionally has seizures as a result of cerebral palsy, a brain disorder. Her dad, who taught her how to signal answers for “yes” and “no” through hand movements and head gestures, feeds her via a G-tube, a feeding device, as does Horscheck.

Therapy has done so much and can do so much more, but getting Angelyn, who requires a wheelchair, to her sessions at the Miami Children’s Hospital outpatient center in West Kendall three times a week, as well as to school, has become difficult. The family van, a 2008 Town and Country, has passed the 90,000-mile mark and has engine problems. Given its wear and tear, the Gutierrezes soon won’t be able to transport their daughter to her sessions. Repairs would cost more than the van is worth.

Her father, Flavio, 44, lost his job as a security guard earlier this year, and his unemployment benefits run out this month. Mom stopped working when Angelyn was born so she could take care of her. The couple’s son, Javier, 21, sometimes has to borrow the aging van to get to his internship job at Tamiami Airport. His goal is to work as a mechanic.

As a result of transportation problems, Angelyn, who also takes speech therapy, has to postpone hippotherapy, a form of physical therapy that could help with her balance and spine so that she could sit up tall, unaided, and have more control over her head. “I used to take her to hippotherapy,” Aida says, her voice breaking. “I want her to be as independent . . .”

Tears take over.

“.. . You want to do the best you can,” she continues. “I want her to be as normal as any other child.”

A new mobility van “would help them tremendously for her future,” said Agency for Persons With Disabilities support coordinator Ileana Milian.