. . .These "Special Kids"
A PERSONAL PIECE TO RAISE
WRITER'S NOTE: this hub is Sincerely Dedicated to my nephew, and friend, Dru Mauldin, age 11, of Panama City, Florida. I felt it was time to tell you about this very-special little guy who has touched my life so much. And to be honest, when this hub is published, I AM GOING TO TAKE A FEW DAYS OFF FROM HUBPAGES just so the pain from this awful memory will hopefully and finally be healed. But do not worry. I will be back very soon. Thank you. Kenneth)
A few years ago I happened to be in a noted, and very-famous department store. The name of the store is not important, but what I witnessed is.
From an aisle away, I overheard a lady screaming to the top of her lungs as if a criminal were robbing her in broad-open daylight. When I ran to where she was, I suddenly wished it had been just a simple act of robbery, for what I witnessed in the next five minutes not only broke my heart into, but send my spirit into a sudden rage of anger and vengeance.
The lady, who looked somewhat comfortable in life, was yelling at an autistic child, probably her child, or maybe her grandchild. It really didn't matter what relation the child was to her, but what struck me so hard was how the defenseless child who was sitting in the shopping cart, just stared into her angry eyes and absorbed her every angry word without flinching or squirming.
The woman acted as if the child had committed a major crime. And when she finished ranting, she finally asked the child, "why did you want this stupid toy?" With that line she stumbled to speak, me and the small crowd of onlookers who had gathered slowly walked away and all felt so helpless and self-loathing for not being able to do something for this little boy, a "true" child of God, if there ever was one.
But we the civilized people who witnessed this "murder-by-words," from a sensible woman, knew that thanks to the laws of our country, we could have all been sued in any court. And lost for simply wanting to keep an innocent soul from being lambasted like he was an animal.
From that time to now, the thoughts below have been growing in my heart and I felt like it was time to share with with you.
They aren't perfect in phrasing. Or in poetic time. Just my honest thoughts about how openly-evil some people can be toward an autistic child.
As you read this, please whisper a prayer for "me," that I will keep a keen sense of awareness about me as sometimes I venture into public, and sometimes cross pathways with a "special child," and the next time, I want to do what is right. Not for me. But for the "special children."
These "Special Children" . . .
They don't speak like you or me. They don't use their eyes to see.
They don't use their ears to hear. Only through purity they live so clear.
They don't speak with our words, in phrases, perfectly set in time.
They speak with rhythms and rhymes, simple little songs, and dimes that shine.
And have a peace of soul that I'd give my life if it were mine.
They don't walk the pathways we walk. No, not at all.
And when we try to walk with them, we simply mumble, stumble and fall.
We treat them like outcasts, lepers, even flaw's as tattered their shadows cast.
They have only a future, and no glimpses, signs or memories of a past.
Only a few of "us," with limbs so strong. Minds so long. Will soon see our wrong.
Our tears will flow from heart so mute. And curse our own birth from its very root.
These "special kids" know nothing but love, will touch, smile and guide broken men such as I to "their" place hidden above.
So please heed our tearful plea. Take warning to the evil you inflict on
these "special kids," who are lifetimes apart from you and me.
For in a wink so fast, you'll be faded from the race.
And will stand hand-on-hand as they see God's real face.
And evil one, be warned with truthful hue. We mortals are spent tolerating a grinding existence with shattered souls such as you.
We can forgive. We can forget. As long as our hearts grow true.
But with God, oh evil one, your abuse finds no mercy true.
Eons ago, God was lonely. And inspected His creation so huge.
Suddenly, He had to leave. To hear cries from "one of these."
He left "them" here to remind us that He is "them" to see.
These true children of God, these"special kids" who I pray will remember me.
Two images of autism
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