I've seen a lot of posts on various pages and blogs where the author writes a letter to a person, explaining some kind of situation or encounter involving their children. Many that I've read have been on sites for parents with children with special needs, medical issues, or something that makes a child "not normal." I never planned on writing one, even though I have special needs children. I didn't plan to write one because I don't particularly care what other people think about me or my children. My husband and I love them, our families love them, and that's all that matters. But I find myself with something to say anyway.
Dear Man Who Gave My Son "The Look",
I noticed you playing with your children at the park. I noticed you because, unlike a lot of parents I see, you were playing tag with your kids (no judgement, I know some parents use the park as a way to take a break). I thought it was great.
We showed up, two very rambunctious boys in tow. The thing that makes us stand out is usually my youngest son. He always wears a hat; not totally out of the ordinary but he always wears a train engineer's hat that used to belong to my grandfather. He is very protective of it, which can sometimes cause problems. He also wears what is comfortable, which means he doesn't always match and sometimes he downright clashes (but he is SO adorable). And on this day, he was also wearing one red glove and carrying a metal lunchbox (which was from Christmas) full of Thomas mini trains.
I saw you notice him. I saw "the look" we often get. You seemed a little confused or unsure about what to think. But, you didn't say anything, and you didn't tell your kids not to play with him. When they wanted him to join their fun, you just stood back. I was surprised, based on your initial reaction. I thought you would try to redirect them or distract them, but you didn't.
And then his lunchbox came open, spilling his mini trains all over the ground. He started getting really upset. Let me pause here. You don't know that he has autism. You don't know that his trains spilling put him on the verge of a meltdown. And as his mother, I could see the thunderclouds coming. I was getting ready to step in, when you did.
You were still playing with your children, very close to where my son spilled his trains. Before I could get to him, you and your children helped him. All three of you walked over and started helping him pick up his trains. I was so happy to see that, but for more than the reasons you think. Yes, I was happy to see you and your children help my son. But in doing that, you also kept him from getting wood chips on his one glove. Which meant I did not have to deal with another potential meltdown when I would have to take his glove off to remove the wood chips because the wood chips would have also caused a potential meltdown. You made his day, and mine.
Thank you, for everything, even though you'll probably never know.
