It is the 16th, so I will shoo you over to Hopeful Parents for my monthly post as Insideout510. But I will be sending you there to read a slightly reworked rerun from FJC, so I thought I'd better offer something here, too. They are both brief moments in time, occurrences that for a child without differences, would have gone largely unnoticed. But I got more than the 6 words' worth of meaning out of each.
A line of excited kindergartners files through the school hallway. You can see on their faces that they are about to board a big yellow bus to that blissful land of other-than-school: a field trip. I walk alongside the kindergartners as the lone parent chaperon. I am as excited as they are for I have not boarded a school bus in years and this is my first field trip with Addie's class.
When I take advantage of opportunities to be with Addie's schoolmates, I listen to the murmurs always - seeking perspective on what 5 and 6 year olds talk about, listening for proofs that Addie is understood or misunderstood, honing in small clues pointing in the direction of true friendship for her. Today I hear talk about the bus, the play we're about to see, the snack they had, the shoes they wear, the music class they'll miss, the Valentine's party scheduled for the next day. Without segue I can detect, a head flicks up to me and and shouts "Happy birthday!" It sets off a chain reaction of wishes down the line. The voices grow louder as they smile that smile of kids who think they have something over on an adult. The teacher hushes them.
"What? How did you know my birthday is next week?" I whisper with genuine confusion.
The first child answers immediately, without guile and without a clue of what weight the mother of a non-verbal child might give the small fact:
"Addie told us."
Now shimmy to HP for another 3 words (reposted from September 2009) that herald a fleeting truth, appreciated the more for its transient nature: all is as it should be.
I Heard It.