This post was written March 2020.
Hallelujah, indeed.
Hayden had another choir concert tonight.
He forgot to bring his music binder. This is the first concert he’s ever needed it so it wasn’t part of his routine, and I didn’t know about it to remind him. But once he realized that he forgot, he didn’t get agitated or perseverate on it like he might have done a few years ago. He was able to share with his neighbor and was fine. He found his spot with his group, remembered all of the words, and laughed when the director told a joke.
He said afterward that his favorite song was the middle one they performed. When asked why, he said, “Well first of all, I like the tune.” What’s the second reason? “Oh. It has a good message.”
The child who was never supposed to be able to speak, who couldn’t participate in crowded events, and who couldn’t answer a simple question of, “Did you have a good day?” The one who once wouldn’t let anyone sing around him, and who still struggles to pay attention when people tell him the reasons or meanings of things. Today that child stood in front of hundreds and told me afterward that his favorite song was the one with a good message.
His final song tonight ended with many Hallelujahs. I find it has a fitting message.
Good things are possible.
Hope is real.
Autism is treatable.
Hayden had another choir concert tonight.
He forgot to bring his music binder. This is the first concert he’s ever needed it so it wasn’t part of his routine, and I didn’t know about it to remind him. But once he realized that he forgot, he didn’t get agitated or perseverate on it like he might have done a few years ago. He was able to share with his neighbor and was fine. He found his spot with his group, remembered all of the words, and laughed when the director told a joke.
He said afterward that his favorite song was the middle one they performed. When asked why, he said, “Well first of all, I like the tune.” What’s the second reason? “Oh. It has a good message.”
The child who was never supposed to be able to speak, who couldn’t participate in crowded events, and who couldn’t answer a simple question of, “Did you have a good day?” The one who once wouldn’t let anyone sing around him, and who still struggles to pay attention when people tell him the reasons or meanings of things. Today that child stood in front of hundreds and told me afterward that his favorite song was the one with a good message.
His final song tonight ended with many Hallelujahs. I find it has a fitting message.
Good things are possible.
Hope is real.
Autism is treatable.
