There you are in the grocery aisle, a beacon of warmth. My son, Ethan, strolls alongside me as I navigate the cart, and you rush up to us with your mom in tow. You greet Ethan by name, your enthusiasm palpable. Though he mumbles a brief reply, his gaze drifts elsewhere as he wanders ahead. You mention that you share a classroom with him, and when I express my gratitude for your kindness, I try to explain his quiet nature. You simply say, “Oh, I know. That’s just Ethan.” As you wave goodbye, saying, “See you Monday!” my heart swells with joy, knowing that there are friends like you who accept him for exactly who he is, autism and all.
Later, at the school auditorium, you embody thoughtfulness. Ethan and I are there for his sister’s play, and you come bounding over, dragging your mom along, eager to sit next to Ethan. You introduce him to your mother, and I ask Ethan if he can tell me your name. He shrugs, and I feel a pang of embarrassment, but you effortlessly ease the situation. “No worries! I’m Alex,” you say, and you make an effort to engage Ethan in conversation, while our parents exchange pleasantries. Your patience impresses me, and I am thankful that Ethan is learning valuable social skills from peers like you.
Fast forward to seventh-grade science class, where I’ve been invited to see Ethan present on the solar system. There you are, a group of supportive faces. Ethan stands proudly in front of you, grinning widely. It doesn’t occur to him that his project, assisted by his paraprofessional, may not be as comprehensive as yours. But you all treat him with the same respect you offer each other, and it fills my heart with warmth to see you make him feel included, regardless of his challenges.
Then, at a department store, I spot you again, radiating kindness. You recognize me and ask, “Are you Ethan’s mom?” After confirming, you inquire about his whereabouts and share that you often have lunch together. I express how much it means to see kids like you being so thoughtful towards him. You smile and tell me that your time with Ethan has taught you more than you could have imagined. I reflect on this, recognizing that while Ethan may not fit the mold of what most would consider “fun,” you understand his struggles and are willing to be the friend he needs, taking the time to communicate in a way he can process. My gratitude is immeasurable.
That evening, I seek the face of understanding at a music program. I was hoping to see you there, and just as we arrive, I see you walking in. I stop you to ask about the location of Ethan’s group, and you confidently say, “I know exactly where to go. Come on, Ethan. Follow me.” As you guide him away, I call out, “Thank you!” Feeling fortunate to belong to a community filled with such considerate individuals warms my heart.
At the school picnic, the faces of acceptance surround us. Ethan’s class voted to go fishing for their end-of-year celebration. We nearly skipped, knowing Ethan’s aversion to getting dirty and his tendency to ask how much longer we’d be there. But we decided to let him go. Upon arrival, several of you rush to our van, calling Ethan’s name and urging him to join you. He smiles and says, “My friends are here.” As he follows you, I feel immense joy knowing that he has friends who embrace him, autism and all.
Within the autism community, I often hear troubling stories of prejudice and bullying. Fortunately, Ethan has experienced little of that. Perhaps it’s because we’ve been open about his diagnosis since he started school, or maybe it’s the educational efforts we made to inform his classmates. It could also stem from the lunch buddy program and other social initiatives his peers have taken part in. We live in a close-knit town, and perhaps we’ve simply been blessed with a group of exceptionally caring classmates whose families have instilled values of kindness and acceptance. It might be a blend of all these factors.
Thank you, dear friends, for being a light in Ethan’s life. Your kindness, patience, and understanding mean the world, reminding us all of the importance of friendship in its purest form.
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In summary, this heartfelt letter expresses gratitude towards the friends of a child with autism, highlighting their compassion, understanding, and acceptance. Through various encounters at school and in the community, the author reflects on the positive impact these friendships have on her son’s life, emphasizing the importance of kindness and support.
