Scaredy Cats

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Goldie stepped through the front door and into the kitchen. The floor creaked.

“Who is there?” said a cracked voice.

“Momma J ! It’s me!” Goldie stretches her arms out wide with an ear to ear smile.

Momma J hobbles in the kitchen and inches towards Godie until she could touch the tip of her nose.

Goldie eyes looked at though they would pop out of her face.

“Oh! There you are!” said Grandma.

“Where is the cat?” Goldie’s eyes became search lights. Momma J was the only one that liked Benny. Momma J was the only one that Benny liked. Goldie was never going to like him.

He creeped along and pounced. His mean yellow eyes made her heart race. So every time she came to Grandma’s House.

Momma J didn’t answer Goldie. She went back into the living room and sat down in a soft rocker. Goldie peered from behind the kitchen wall. Benny sat on Momma J’s lap twirling his tail until it finally stilled and tucked under his back legs. His mean yellow eyes blinked and blinked until they disappeared.Momma J slid her hand from the top of Benny’s head all the way down his back. Soon, her own blue eyes disappeared too.

“There, there,”Momma J said.

Goldie watched her pet Benny up and down his back. She rocked him back and forth and wore a closed smile.

“Are you going to read your story to Momma J?” I asked wishing Goldie’s grip on my arm would loosen so that the blood circulation would flow freely.

“No, I am scared.” Goldie whispered. “Benny doesn’t like stories.”

Momma J rocked and rocked then she sighed and said,

“I remember when I was a little girl. I would bundle up my little kitty cat and put her in a baby stroller. Then we would go of a walk down the sidewalk.”Momma J looked out the big window and seemed to really see herself walking the cat down the street in a baby carriage.”

Goldie’s grip on me loosened Goldie looked far away. Perhaps she could see the girl walking her cat down the sidewalk.

“Goldie has a good story to read to you.” I told Momma J, “Goldie why don’t you sit in a chair right next to Momma J and read it.”

I pried Goldie’s fingers off of my arm and slid a chair right next to the rocker. Then I nudged her forward. Goldie hovered over the chair and then sat down with a thump.

Benny popped open his eyes and flew off Grandma’s lap. Goldie grabbed onto my arm again this time her nails dug into my skin feeling very much like cat claws.

“Oh dear! Oh dear!” Momma J stood up and shuffled around looking in every direction.

“I guess Benny is scared too.” I told Goldie

“What is HE scared of?” Goldie crunched up her eyebrows.

“He’s of us. We are strangers to him.” I prodded Goldie’s fingers off my arm again.

“He likes Momma J!” Goldie insisted still standing as though her shoulder was glued to mine.

“Of course he does!” I nodded.

Goldie didn’t say anything but her eyes told me she understood. Goldie wasn’t the only scaredy cat.

“Oh dear!” Momma J was walking in circles all around the house.

Goldie looked at her and pressed her lips together. Then she left my side and followed her. She used her own searchlight eyes to look in every nook and cranny for Benny.

Benny couldn’t been seen in any room of the house.Momma J was in tears. Goldie went back to each room twice, then stopped in her tracks in the den. With her head resting on her shoulder, she said, “There he is!”

Goldie pointed to a place in between the cushions on the couch. Benny sat there in the dark couch like cave looking at us with his yellow eyes. Goldie didn’t grab my arm or dig her nails in it. Her bright blue eyes met his bright yellow eyes and they both smiled.

“There, there, Benny,” Goldie said. “Come on, It’s ok.”

Papa J came in and put his arm around Goldie.

“My, My, looks like our little scaredy cat has found a good hiding place.” He bent down on his knees, scooped up Benny, and placed him Grandma’s arms.

Momma J carried him to the rocker and began to stroke his fur from his head all the way down his back. Benny made curls in the air with his tail, then stopped as he closed his eyes.

Goldie sat down in a chair next to Grandma. and opened up her book.

But she didn’t read the words, she read her own story.

“Once upon a time there was a girl named Goldie. One day she bundled up her kitty and put her in a doll carriage. Then she went for a walk down the sidewalk. “

“Yes!” said Grandma smiling with her eyes closed. “I remember.”.

“There, there Benny. There, there. ” said Goldie as she reached out two fingers to stroke Benny’s back too.

Momma J smiled. Benny’s eyes were closed and he smiled. No one was scared.

The Most Important thing about Autism

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The most important thing about autism is that it is a mystery. No matter who says what, no one really knows a real answer to why someone is born with autism. There are all kinds of “guesses”: It’s in the genes, It’s environmental, It is because of vaccinations. The most important thing about autism is it is a mystery!

The most important thing about therapy is that “one size” does not fit all. There is speech therapy, occupational therapy, social work therapy, ABA therapy. floor time therapy, and even eating therapy! But not everyone needs ALL that therapy. So that most important thing about therapy is that “one size” does not fit all.

The most important thing about school, is that you need to have another cheerleader. Everyone needs a cheerleader. Be on the lookout for at least one. If there is one there surely another. They can be a teacher, a classmate, or the custodian. School is hard enough when you have autism. So the most important thing about school, is that you need a cheerleader.

The most important thing about a peer to peer is that it is a blessing to both! Sure, the peer without autism thinks they have a lot to teach the person that has autism. They think they can help them in a a lot of ways. And they can … BUT little do they know, that their autistic peer, is a teacher too. They can help them grow and change too. So, the most important thing about peer to peer, is that it is a blessing to both!

The most important thing about someone who is nonverbal, is that they do communicate. They just have a unique way of communicating. It is up to the talking person to find out how they communicate. It could be with smiling eyes. It would be by pointing, It could be a kind of scream. But the most important thing about someone who is nonverbal, is they DO communicate.

The most important thing about the senses, is that there are five. We may not use all five because we can’t. We may have preferences too. But one person who uses all five senses, and another person uses only 2, can still live in this world and maybe even be friends. The most important thing about the senses, is that there are five.

The most important thing about parenting a child with autism, is that you love them. Right? You love them. They are yours to raise. They are in fact a gift. Sometime you have to just enjoy your autistic child for who they are. And know , that they are changing you for the better. The most important thing about parenting a child with autism, is that you love them. And .. maybe they don’t say it, or show it. But one day, you will know, that they really do… love you too!

PROM

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The fanciest dress she had ever seen was hers. It was pink and covered with jewels. Goldie immediately spread her arms out and did a small twirl when she found herself inside the dress. Her smile looked bigger and brighter than the Queen of England’s. We combed her hair, added a few rosy touches to her face, and added some extra jewels. 

“Here, are you glass slippers,” I said handing her some sparkling flip flops I had bought for her last summer. She had never worn them before. 

“Mom! They are not glass slippers,” Goldie declares.

“I know but they might as well be.” I said placing them in front of her feet.

Goldie lifted her dress slightly and slipped the flip flops on one by one. She hadn’t worn them once. But they fit perfectly. Just like the ones the fairy godmother had magically appear on Cinderella’s feet. Goldie lifted her dress again and glided over to a chair in front of the window and looked out. Her dress skirt draped perfectly all around her. 

Goldie didn’t look sad. She didn’t look scared or nervous. Her hands rested on her lap. She just looked out into the day that would soon turn into evening. She was still for many silent minutes. 

Goldi had once been so bouncy. She would run through the kitchen, living room, dining room and hallway with some bright green flip flops on and a hot pink tutu.  She would sit on a swing for hours and fly to the sky with bare feet. She would twirl around in her pretend dress up Cinderella dress and then crash to the ground with a belly laugh. Now, she was still. Her head looking out and her eyes looking so intently at a dream.

I stood in the doorway and tried to be as still as Goldie. My heart was keeping me from feeling relaxed as Goldie seemed to be. Seeing Goldie so still was so beautiful. I have seen brides look the same right before they walk down the aisle. My mind wandered out into the day too.

This was the first real Cinderella moment in her life. The first prom that she would attend looking more and more like Cinderella than she had ever before. As a young woman, we have dreams of wearing our Cinderella dresses especially the one that we wear when we are the bride walking down the aisle to our groom. But for Goldie, that moment doesn’t seem possible.

Yet, it does seem possible. Because as she sat there, I did see a bride! Through all of her high school years, her concerts, her classes, her dances, …all those times when things were fancy, something ever so magical was happening – more magic than fairy godmother could do. A miracle was in the works. This Cinderella of mine was getting ready as a bride waiting for her Groom.  One day, He will come, and she will be ready. 

“For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready. Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear.”  Revelation 19:7

The biggest 100

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Last year, during Christmas, Goldie met a girl named Wanda. She so poor she only had one dress. But Wanda said she had 100 dresses. The girls laughed at her as they stared at her plain blue dress that she wore everyday to school. One girl had a nice red velvet one. Another girl had a silky green one. Day after day, Wanda would tell them she had 100 dresses. The girls would laugh at her.

“I do too!” Wanda declared.

“I don’t even have 100 dresses!” said a rich girl.

Then one day at school, Wanda’s desk chair was empty. The teacher found a large envelope with a note attached.

“She’s moved away. ” the teacher shared, “Wanda, has moved to the city. Her mother says she won’t be teased there.”

All the girls watched as the teacher opened up the envelope and passed out a picture to each girl.

“It’s my silky green dress!” cried one and I am wearing it!”

“I am wearing my red velvet one! It looks just like me!”

The girls realize, Wanda really did have 100 dresses. She really did line them all up in the closet. She thought not only of the dress but of the girl who wore it. She noticed them all and took care to remember.She had called them friend.

Goldie remembers Wanda. She feels sorry that Wanda was laughed at. She feels even more sorry that she only had one dress and not 100. Then she goes into her room and closes the door. All is quiet for hours. I know that she is in there because I can see a little bit of her shadow in the space between the door and the floor.

Why does Wanda touch Goldie’s heart and mine? This storybook character has lived in many girls’ lives but maybe only for a short time. They have lots of friends. They don’t have to WORK to get friends. They just win them over naturally. They come and they go and then they make new friends. Wanda and Goldie think the same when it comes to friends.

When Goldie is away, I sneak into her room. There are stacks of sketch books underneath her drawing table. I pick up the one on the top. Goldie will know I was here if I put the book back in the wrong place. I carefully turn the pages-

The first girl smiles at me:

Ada. Goldie has written at the top. Some girls wear too short of a dress in my opinion. But Goldie knows Ada and she sees “pretty”.

Then I see another: Eva

Eva is wearing her party ballet dress. Goldie has seen her doing ballet many times. Goldie can’t fly across the stage without falling over. But Eva can and Goldie watches with wonder.

And another: Maralisa. She is all smiles all the time. She has her own fun and funny dress to wear each day depending on her heart beat.

The book pages are wrinkled, worn, and full of dresses and friends who wore them.

There are more than a 100. The next book in the pile are full of still more. Surely if I spent the day counting there would be more than a 1000 dresses and the girls who wore them. These girls have been seen by Goldie and remembered. Friends with them or not.

Goldie has at least 100 dresses, all in a book. She will always have them and remember the girls who wore them. Just like Wanda. Only Goldie is still drawing dresses and the girls who wore them. Friend or not.

When it snows….

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When it snows, I remember the winter I felt swallowed up. After a long night of the wind roaring, and singing, Snow had buried our house. My bedroom window showed a white nothing outside world. It looked that way through every window of the house. No street lamp. No house across the street. No driveway. No mailbox. No trees. Only white. It was the realest, wildest winter I can remember.

Outside in the cold white, everything was hidden- including me up to my neck. There I was in my. own front yard, and yet I really I didn’t know where I was. The bushes, the place where the grass ended and the driveway started, and the steps to my front door, were all erased. Playtime that winter was all about discovering and exploring. We could do things that we had never done before and never did again. We made forts big enough to fit three people inside. We sled off the roof of our house. We didn’t look before we crossed the street. We made a whole family of snow people. We could look out for miles from the tops of snow piles taller than Abraham Lincoln.

For two long weeks, I wondered. I wondered if I would ever see the green grass again. I wondered if the tree in my front window would stretch taller toward a sunny sky, wake up, and get dressed in green. I wondered if I would ever see the robin again singing just outside my window, or bobbing around in the green grass. I wondered if the tulips that grew along the sidewalk would poke up.

We had a state of emergency for the first time in my life. At age 10, that meant my dad and three other neighbor dads had to walk a few miles to the grocery store in a sled because there was no food in the house. There was were no cars on the road. Who knew if there was food for sale at the grocery store?. When they turned the corner, I wondered if we would see them again.

The blizzard happened in January. But it took until late April for the trees to dress up in green. The grass was all sloshy. But the green got deeper with the sunshine. The blades were thick. The tulips had tripled. And the robin did come back and build a nest right in the tree outside my front window, laid three eggs, and one spring morning, I heard singing again and I didn’t think a wink about what had happened just a short time ago. Everything had been swallowed up by spring.

Naughty , Nice, and a Newborn

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Right at the toe of my Christmas Stocking, something round bulged out. It couldn’t be! I thought. I haven’t been that bad. There were several sweaty moments of waiting for my parents to wake up and join us extreme early birds that Christmas morning. Was I so naughty that Santa left me a lump of coal?

I began to recount all my naughtiness of days passed. I had screamed at my brothers for messing up my room. I had told a lie to my teacher that I didn’t write Bruce loves Holly true love always on Holly’s math paper. But I really did write that. I told one friend I wouldn’t play with her just because and another friend that she was my new best friend. I had taken a neighbor’s brand new bike for a ride without even asking. Yes, I had been very naughty. I was going to get what I deserved.

But, I had done some very nice things to show I was really a good girl. I had set the dinner table every time my mother asked me to without complaint. I had kept my room clean. I had taken the dog out into cold night while others were asleep. I didn’t watch too much television and instead read a book. I had practiced my piano piece many times before the Christmas Eve Service. Surely all of those good things made up for the bad things.

At the toe of my stocking, I found. something round, sweet smelling and orange. I pressed that glorious ball of fruit against my nose and could taste its juice. Inside a long rectangular box, I found the doll of my dreams. Her hair smelled of cinnamon and grew longer with one button and shorter with the turn of a knob. I’d been a nice girl after all.

It’s a mystery how that Christmas was still merry and most of the Christmases after that. Well over half a century of Christmases, and I’ve yet to receive a lump of coal. Yet, a lump of hard, dirty, black coal is what I deserve, but have never received. How can this be?

Because in a dirty place where perhaps lumps of coal might have made a small fire. That fire was made to warm a newborn baby. That baby was absolutely perfect. He born to save us from being so naughty and help us to be nice, even one day absolutely perfect just like Him.

That gift alone made should have makes a Christmas merry just as it makes it now.

Intentional ? Mistake?

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Sometimes we insert our foot into our mouth. I have been guilty of such a time. Trying to auto correct our words is not easy. Especially when our emotions color our words with passion.

We, ( my family and I) were standing in a conversation circle of friends and strangers. After the “pleased to meet you’ exchanges, we either listened in or gave our two cents on the random topic our words had wandered to whether in the pleasantries of “such a wonderful summer” to “I remember being a high schooler.

But then, it happened. It was quite unexpected. The topic of high school led to an “insert into mouth” statement. I am happy to share that this time it wasn’t me. One of the strangers commented about her old high school building which is now transformed into a building that provides services for special needs kids and adults, and also services for the deaf and hard of hearing. “Who would have thought there would be a need for all of that.” she said, “God didn’t intend to make people with such needs.”

I blushed, I perspired, and my heartbeat rushed up to a dangerous number.

God did’t intend for all of this? God didn’t intend to make people with special needs? I stood right next to Goldi who looked far and away. What was she thinking? How I wanted to stun the woman with perfect “soap box” words. I had to breathe first. Then I looked far and away like Goldi and put my hand on her shoulder. “Well, God allowed it to happen. For His glory” I said looking at her with a smile.

“I see, Interesting. For His glory” the woman said “He allowed it to happen.” As the woman walked away, I looked at Goldi and smiled. She smiled back and was the first to break the conversation circle.

Since the day Goldi was diagnosed, I had to be ready for such moments. I had to be ready with words that somehow silence all the future unnecessary, unkind, and flat out STUPID words that I knew would come about autism. I will never have all the answers. I don’t know if I even have any.I know there is sin in the world. I know that I am a sinner, and Goldi is a sinner. But sometimes sin just doesn’t cut it for a reason why! There is enough sin to deal with in all of us. It shouldn’t be that the cherry on the top just for pizzaz God planned to add autism into our world. But He did.

Why was she born with autism? I waited 20 years for a husband and children. And my first one has autism. Did I do something wrong? Did she?

So now what God? We have this child who has autism. Is this what you intended? Now we have to deal with therapy, special classes, social challenges, anxieties, sensory issues, medical issues, academic challenges, etc. I am not the only one who has asked this question.

“Why was this man blind when he was born? Did his parents do something wrong or did he do something wrong?” The disciples asked Jesus.

“it is not because this man or his parents did something wrong. It happened so that God could show His great work in this man.” Jesus said.

That is why! It doesn’t always bring peace. But it does make me smile. Goldi has autism. And even though she does- God has displayed his great work. God intended for Goldi to have autism? No, he allowed for this. He does intend for Him to be great. And His intentions never fail.

I was ready to tell that woman my answer. I had John 9 in my pocket all along. It has helped me all these many years of questioning. But what I didn’t realize all these years is that there was something God DID intend to do. Something awful. Something that appeared to be a tragic mistake:

“But God chose to hurt his servant. He caused his servant to receive much pain. His servant died to remove peoples guilt. As a result, God will bless him with many descendants, and he will have a long life. What the Lord wants will happen.” Isaiah 53:10

No mistake about it. God intended to make His name great, even if it meant allowing something to look like a big mistake. When in reality, it was glory in the making. Just like Goldi- and just like you and I.

The first from: Handmade to Handheld Books LLC

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Everyday Goldi draws people. She must have a million sketches. Some are colored in with a POP! Others just smile at you because they have all the detail needed to impress the beholder. It was time to do something with all these drawings! So boys and girls, young and old, story lovers, … introducing

Handmade to Handheld Books are teacher authored and illustrated with artwork included by Goldiella. A former teacher, (me) created it and is the sole author. Goldi and I illustrate them using real to life picture scenes and drawn pictures. They are created with the kid in mind. They are for early readers. All of them have special notes to the readers to give them a traditionally published text with a similiar theme to be read aloud. This give them prior background and aides in comprehension. Also, there are listed choices for HOW the child will read the book.

Here is the first one:

Jesus loves Children

One day, we were walking along, and I looked up and saw this………

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is singing-tree-.jpg

A singing tree! The first song, that came to mind, was Jesus Loves the Little Children.

“Goldi! We are going to make a book. I will write and you will help illustrate!” I said smiling under the blue sky.

“Are you sure?” Goldi said.

“Look! Look at that tree! It’s singing!”

“Yes, it is.” Goldi said smiling.

Soon we met other tree people:

They all agreed to be in the book. Then, we looked at pages and pages of friends that Goldi has drawn. She could draw a friend with her eyes closed it seems.

We “introduced” her friends with the tree people and …. we made pictures to illustrate how much Jesus loves His children:

Not only did we use words from the song, but we also used Bible verses using the Easy English Bible Version. It is a simple but beautiful translation.

Here is a peek at a page:

It’s a work of art. It’s a work of both of our hands. It’s Handmade. It’s for YOUR hand to hold!

Find them on amazon.

Sixteen Sweets

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It has been said that a girl’s 16th birthday is a sweet one. Here is a list of Gold’s Sixteen Sweets:

Chocolate Cake with pink icing and colored sprinkles without the 16 candles.

Vanilla Ice cream- sweet and tastes good as a dessert side.

A pink rose with soft petals and perfume smell.

A conversation where you are the listener and it is between your two children and they hear each other and know exactly what to say back and they talk like they know each other better than you feel like you know them.

A card sent to a friend, a family member, an acquaintance, for all sorts of reasons and for no real at all except for– just because.

A trickle of tears flowing down because you are reminded that Jesus really really loves you and suffered and died for you and at that moment it is time for you to take communion for the first time.

A meal eaten in total silence. Those around the table, chewed, swallowed, and looked around and wondered about the day.

Being brave and signing a song in ASL about real hope in front of a teen audience.

Writing a letter to someone famous just like you were their close friend and receiving a letter back.

Saying: “I’m not ready to drive. There is too much to think about.” And being content with that.

Knowing what to do on a day that feels like a day of nothing extraordinary.

Talking and laughing with one friend about something. Talking and laughing with another friend about something else.

Creating a treasure to keep or give away.

Cooking something for yourself, eating it, and it tastes just right.

Changes happen and you say: “That’s how it is.”

Knowing you have autism but more so that you are someone not just anyone because you are a child of God.

Jeremiah 29:11-12 Easy English Bible Version: I tell you this: I have decided what I will do for you. I have plans to help you to do well. I do not want to hurt you. I want to give you hope for a good life in the future. When you call out to me, I will hear your prayers.

Sign your name

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The room was pin drop quiet. But we could not hear people talking. We could see them talking. One person would finger dance. The other would finger dance back. Goldi and I stood in awe.

” This is how you can talk without making a sound. ” I whispered.

A woman standing nearby looked at me.

Oh dear! I shouldn’t have said anything. At least not with my mouth. Immediately I gave away my identity. I was a hearing person. Well, some deaf people DO speak. ( Sue Thomas for one) But I was NO Sue Thomas. She was multi- talented. I have multi inabilities. Bravely but with my heart pounding madly, I breathed and walked up to the woman who had finished the fastest finger dance I ever saw!

“Hello,” I signed “I am — “

I can’t finger spell very fast. There are five letters of my name. My fingers trembled. I have known all the letters of the alphabet since the fourth grade. I was fingerspelling all kinds of words.Not very fast but I was a good speller. I was signing my name to someone who couldn’t hear. Someone who had no idea who I was. Someone who would never hear their own name being said, but signed.

“Nice to meet you,” she signed back. Her hands and fingers slowed down a bit. “I am Nina” she spelled. After that she took her N hand and rubbed it against her cheek.

Goldi looked at me wearing crinkled up eyebrows. She was afraid so say anything in the supposed silence. I knew that look that said “Huh?”

I looked at her and signed the word name- where you take two fingers from your dominant hand and and bounce them twice on two fingers with your non dominant hand. Then made the sign for sign where you take your index fingers on both hands and circle them on each side. Nina was making her name sign. A sign that states your name without spelling it.

Goldi signed spelled her name to the woman and she politely danced the same words with the same smile.

“I’m Linda.” It was the the first audible word expressed. “A woman from behind had entered and she signed and spoke at the same time.

I looked down at her name tag. Next to her name was the word interpreter. After spelling her name, with one hand she shaped an L and circled it around her chest. She continued to sign and speak at the same time.

“Nice to meet you, Linda, ” I signed trying out the name sign. “How did you get your name sign?” I said with my fingers.

She told me a story about a deaf teacher she once had that worked with her for years. It was this teacher that gave her the name sign. Linda knew we were hearing and learners. She continued by telling us some rules about a name sign:

“You can only get a name sign from someone who is deaf or maybe someone is a parent of a child who is deaf. And they have to know you. You can’t just get a name sign from someone you’ve known for a short time. Don’t ask them for one. ” she said in a quite serious tone.

“Well, I guess we won’t be given a name sign this week after all. ” I told Goldi in the car when we were rested our hands and let our mouths do the talking.

“Oh well, maybe one day..” Goldi said.

We wished for a moment in the silence. What would our name sign look like ?

Would Goldi’s be a G bouncing off her belly because her laugh is so contagious? Would it be a G jumping off the palm of your hand because she loves to jump? Or would it be a G curving up and out of her cheek because she loves to smile ? Whatever the sign, it would take years for a deaf person to KNOW Goldi and give her a name sign.

Until then more learning. More finger dances and body movements and facial expressions and meeting others who have mastered the finger dance. Then maybe one day we will be able to use a name sign and someone else will sign our name back. And we will sign all kinds of names. Names of people who love to read, or cook, or take walks, or take pictures, or color, or swim, or travel, or laugh just like Goldi. Names of people who are deaf and hearing. Until then wait and wonder… what will people think of us? What will they come to know about us to help them give us a name sign?

I don’t know many name signs. I barely remember the two we did learn. But I do know one and you might know it too. You put your hands out with your palms turned sideways. Take your index finger and point to the center of the opposite hand. Take your index finger of your other hands and point to the center of the opposite hands. It’s the most perfect sign for the most perfect person. He had that name sign even before anyone on earth knew him. His Father knew him best and signed his name. And Jesus signed it back to us.

And this shall be a sign: You will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Luke 2:12

And you shall call him Jesus because he will save the people from their sins. Matthew 1:21