...Their Sorrows He Knoweth...

1. Children of our Heav'nly Father
   Safely in his bosom gather;
   Nestling bird nor star in heaven
   Such a refuge e'er was given.
   
   
2. Neither life nor death shall ever
   From the Lord his children sever;                  
   
   Unto them his grace he showeth,
   And their sorrows all he knoweth.
   
   
3. Though he giveth or he taketh,
   God his children ne'er forsaketh;
   His the loving purpose solely
   To preserve them pure and holy.
   
   
   Text: Caroline V. Sandell-Berg, 1832-1903; trans. by Ernst W. Olson, 1870-1958. English translation (c) Board of Publication, Lutheran Church in America. Used by permission. Music: Traditional Swedish melody 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   The second line of the children’s song above, “unto them his grace he showeth, And their sorrows all he knoweth”, speaks to my mother heart. One of the sorrows that have come into our lives is what modern medicine nowadays calls “Autism Spectrum Disorders”.

   
   

   

   
   

   It is called a spectrum because of the wide range of the severity of the disorder.

   
   

   

   
   

   The poem “Welcome to Holland” accurately depicts how I felt when Ben was diagnosed with autism.

   
   

   

   
   

   Sometimes other people act as though our son is “just really weird”. Rearrange the letters of “weird” and you get “wired”, wired differently, wired unlike anyone else… Our son looks the same as any other neuro-typical child, but actually functions quite differently. He looks “normal” on the outside, but inside he is very different.

   
   

   

   
   

    Those differences manifest themselves in the areas of the cognitive, social, mental and physical. Ben’s entire development has been affected, which triggered in us as parents a deep grief. It was as though the promise of a typical little boy had been taken from us, replaced by an unknown future. The grief cycle had started…

   
   

   Mosiah 18:8-9 reads:

   
   

   And it came to pass that he said unto them: Behold, here are the waters of Mormon (for thus were they called) and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another's burdens, that they may be light;

   
   

   Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life.

   (Book of Mormon | Mosiah 18:8 - 9)

   
   

   This passage helped me (and still continues to do so) at a very difficult time of my life, when Ben’s recent diagnosis turned my life upside down. Eternal life was still in sight, even when mortal life was taking a harsh turn.

            Understanding the grief cycle is important for anyone faced with a life-changing event.

   
   

   

   
   

           

   

   
   

           

   
   

            Taking time to understand children with autism is paramount nowadays, when more and more children are diagnosed, thus indentified and “treated”.

            This is what I would love for you to know about children with autism:

   1.    They look like typically developing children, but their brains do not function the same. Their neuro-pathways are not wired as theirs, for some reason… Things that make complete sense to a typical child are not obvious to a child with autism. Things that only need to be shown once for a child to grasp will need to be formally taught and repeated many times over for a child with autism in order to learn it.

   
   

   

   
   

   2.    Social exchanges are strained: eye contact is painful, conversation is a burden… Not to mention the unacceptable things that a child with autism will do in public, such as burping very loudly, passing gas and discussing the event!

   
   

   

   
   

   3.    Our children seem really poorly behaved, ill- disciplined; they act as if they have been “raised in barn” but actually come from families who try so hard to teach them and try to do the right thing each and every day. We teach teach teach the social graces they need to be accepted by society, so that they’ll have friends and be happy. But all seems in vain as children with autism sometimes do not respond to run of the mill discipline and teaching methods.

   
   

   

   
   

    What can you teach your families?

   1.    You can make your children aware that our kids look just like them, but they function differently, are very literal and do not learn at the same rate or in the same way as they do.

   
   

   

   
   

   2.    Encourage your loved ones to show an added measure of patience towards kids with autism. They don’t do what they do to annoy or make others mad. They can’t help it, in the same way a diabetic cannot help their blood sugar levels.

   
   

   

   
   

   3.    Tell your kids that ours could use a friend, a helping hand, a real buddy who won’t try to get them in trouble by encouraging them to do uncouth things.

   
   

   

   
   

       Autism has been classified as a disability; I like to see it as a different ability, to see life, to live it, to learn and love.

   In the LDS children’s magazine “The Friend” an open letter was published in 2008.  It summarizes my feelings very well and is a lovely conclusion to this post!

   
   

   A Letter to Tommy

   By Annie and David Braithwaite

   00608_000_003

   Dear Tommy,

   We are writing this letter to tell you how much we appreciated your kindness to Morgan at the Scouting court of honor last night. Although Morgan looks like you and the other boys, his autism creates roadblocks that most people don’t take the time to understand.

   Morgan can’t screen out noise or light, the feel of his clothes on his body, or even the sound of his own breathing. I often try to imagine what it would be like to have such a heightened sense of awareness. Without medication, he would not be able to function at all.

   As Morgan’s mom and dad, we find it difficult to watch him struggle when he’s with others his age. His deepest desire is to have friends and to be accepted, but making friends is also his deepest struggle. Last night he was nervous about getting his lines right, but you calmly led him through each part of the program. I will always have a picture in my mind of you, a small blond boy in glasses, looking up into Morgan’s face, forcing him to make eye contact, telling him that he was going to be fine and that he was doing a good job. We watched as you smiled and clapped when he received his awards. You quietly put your hand on his arm to calm him when he became overzealous, and you prompted him when he stumbled over his lines.

   Most important, you recognize Morgan’s presence in your Scout troop, while others often ignore him and turn away their eyes, as if that will make him disappear. We’ve also been aware of you during Sunday School, helping Morgan read a scripture, encouraging him to sit quietly, smiling at him, and, in turn, giving him a reason to smile.

   One day when you’re a father, you’ll appreciate what it means to parents when they see a young man treat their disabled son with respect and love. We can see that you’ll be a generous, kind adult. We know that the Lord has a special reward for you and others who love His “different” children, and Morgan will be there to cheer when you receive it.

        Thank you for your goodness.