Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: EXPRESSION (11/12/20)
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TITLE: The Boy who Couldn't Smile | Previous Challenge Entry
By Dave Walker
11/17/20 -
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Aaron was four years old before Janet and Tom realised there was something wrong. He struggled in Janet’s arms, thrusting her away, his speech was garbled, he woke at night and wandered through the house, and he screamed uncontrollably, holding his ears.
The paediatrician looked them solemnly in the eye after the examination. His voice was measured, compassionate. “I think you’ve suspected the diagnosis, and you’re right, I’m afraid. Your son is autistic.”
That was four years ago --- four desperate years of trying in vain to connect with her son. How she longed to hold him and to see him explore his world. How often she wet her pillow with tears as she cried to God, “God, if I could only reach him. If I could see a smile on that precious face --- some expression. He’s impassive, except when he’s distressed, and then it’s an agonised grimace.”
Tom was a good father. Janet ached at the disappointment she sensed in his not having a son he could take fishing, or cycle with or talk with about manly things as he grew up. Nevertheless, it was a shared trial. Their mutual love for their heavenly Father drew them together in their pain.
The special school Aaron attended helped to calm him. Tom and Janet learned that autistic children have exceptionally sensitive hearing, which causes them distress at loud noises. Earmuffs helped to reduce his screaming fits. A tablet at night helped his restlessness. Janet learned to ignore his incoherent mumbles to himself. She accepted that he lived in his own world which she could not reach.
“God,” she prayed daily, “I can accept this special role You have given me. It’s brought you closer. I causes me to rely on You, and You give me strength, but my heart’s desire is to see Aaron smile. He’s in his own world, but it’s an unhappy, alien one. His only expressions are of pain or indifference. He’s blank, Lord, unless he’s upset. Show me You’re there --- that you’re with me; that there’s purpose in all this.”
They settled into a routine. It was special school in the morning, a carer teaching him interactive games for an hour in the afternoon and then he’d rush to the trampoline. He was obsessed with repetitive activities. Sometimes he’d murmur the same incoherent phrase over and over until Janet had to leave the room or send him away. He tried no variation on the trampoline. It was up and down, up and down, up and down as though compelled by some restless demon that had gripped him.
Early one morning, while on her knees a verse came to Janet’s mind.
Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.
“Oh, Lord,’ Janet prayed, “I think I’ve been entreating You --- agonising before You --- more than taking delight in You.” With that, she put on praise music and worshipped God with all her heart.
Nothing changed in Aaron. Yet as Janet determined to praise God each day, her ability to handle him reached new heights. In a stubborn refusal to stop, each difficult patch became a stimulus to praise God more.
After three months, she received a phone call. “Mrs. Stevenson?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Jones. Have you heard of hippotherapy?”
“Hippos? They use hippos for therapy?”
She heard laughter at the other end of the phone. “No, Mrs. Stevenson. Hippo is the Greek word for horse. Hippotherapy is using horses as therapy for disabled children. We have started a centre near you and would like to offer you free sessions as an introduction. I believe you have an autistic child?”
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Tom and Janet watched Aaron stumble hesitantly to a coffee-coloured stallion with a flowing, tawny mane. As he neared it, the horse turned its head and nuzzled him. The parents clung to one another in astonishment. Aaron put his hand up and stroked it. Then his whole demeanor changed. He relaxed, rested his head affectionately against the horse and gave a broad smile.
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