I was taken back when I saw Christmas wrapping paper rolled out on my bed. A large piece had been unevenly cut out. I ran down the stairs and asked those who were seated around the kitchen table. “Did anyone wrap a gift today?” Those that had swallowed their food answer quickly. “No.” I dropped the question and search in the cabinet for a pot to make orange chicken (Max’s favorite).
Within seconds after I entered Max’s bedroom after cleaning the kitchen, I discovered on his brown desk a wrapped gift. I picked it up and observed the torn piece of Christmas wrapping paper with Max’s hand writing plastered down with scotch tape, to Alex from Max. I glanced down at Max seated on his bedroom floor playing with Lego’s. “Max what did you wrap for Alex?” Max jump up and grabbed the gift. “Mom, that’s one of my walkie— talkies for Alex. I want him to have it, so we can talk to each other after we move away.” My heart softened after I realize Max is beginning to make friends. Alex is one of his classmates that lives down the street and has been in Max’s self—contained autistic class since kindergarten. I tip—toed over to Max’s bed trying not to step on his Lego’s. I sat on the edge of his bed and prayed for a way to explain that his walkie—talkies only work a mile away from each other. His eyebrows drooped and his lips shriveled as he looked into my eyes. I’m sure to ask, why not. He placed the gift on the corner of the desk and acted as thought he understood. I sensed he didn’t.