Flower in the crack

I saw it and it made me jump. Just like the name of the flower. It certainly earned its name this time. When I watered the flowers in the flower boxes for the first time, there it was. It wasn’t planted there. It just jumped up out of the crack in the patio. It was a miracle.

Miracles may seem few and far between when it comes to the journey of autism or for any day of life for that matter. Or are they? If I think carefully, even the smallest of things can in fact be miracles. It’s a miracle that Goldi is now surpassing me in height considering she was born two weeks early which may have contributed to her development and readiness for life in this mixed up world. It is a miracle that she is eating what is on her plate rather than just a menu of just five foods. It’s a miracle that even though she is shy around a new face or even a familiar one, she read an entire poem in front of a whole group of kids. It is a miracle that she petted a Golden Retriever once when she always watched her from afar because she was afraid. It was a miracle that she went to sleep all on her own one night, after I simply said :”Good night”. A miracle that after speaking in tongues for so long, she is speaking in the same language I am and reading and writing in it too.

I won’t blabber on and on about miracles. Because if everything that has happened on this journey was a miracle, then it wouldn’t be so miraculous. What’s more, my life is miraculous, but isn’t yours too?

A miracle is something supernatural. Something that doesn’t follow the laws of nature or science or whatever law that has been written that says that if it doesn’t make sense it’s either nonsense or a miracle.

It certainly didn’t make sense that the flower jumped up from the crack. I didn’t plant it. I didn’t water it. It’s not even a weed. It’ a genuine flower! What’s more, it’s only gotten bigger.

Goldi is in a point of transition now. Next year, she will be in high school. It’s a miracle we have come all this way. Maybe you too are saying the same thing, in the midst of your transition. With them, come things we hope for, things we expect, and things we fear may happen. I have no idea what will jump up in the future.

“Mom! Do you want me to pick and put it back where it belongs?” my son asked when he noticed it.

“No! It should be right where it is.” I answer. “It’s a miracle.”

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