village

The man entered with his son, not quietly, the son was a bit loud-enjoying some game at the parent’s expense. But the dad didn’t seem too disturbed. I watched. Others ignored. The boy, a tween, seemed nice enough. Smiling broadly at his father, anxious to continue his antics. His dad motioned for him to sit, and the boy bounced around the waiting room until he found a chair. It was obvious he was, what, how do we describe it, special needs? Maybe he was autistic, I don’t know for sure. And if he was I wouldn’t know much more about it than that.

And I should. And shouldn’t you?

We should all know as much as we can know about Autism, and any/every other condition that the children of our village may find themselves in. We ignore at our own peril. Your child is my child;  a child of the universe,  ‘no less than the trees and stars’.

Why?

This is the purpose of Life: to help each other. Not to ignore, or destroy. You don’t need a religion to tell you that the land will crack open and the hurricanes will fury and the well will dry. You don’t need a prophet to tell you that illness will torture you, that disease will steal from you. Those are the side effects of being human on Earth. There’s enough work to do without destroying each other, too.

The father and son were ushered into their appointment and I was taken into mine. They’ll never know how they touched me, that is unless you tell them.

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