by Jennifer Dyer
It’s that time of year again–The Special Needs prom. Each year some amazing women from our church, along with many other generous people, put on a wonderful evening of fun and food for the special needs community in our area.
This year’s theme was TX, and the decorating team outdid themselves.
As this is a long-standing event in our community, I wanted our family to be a part.
Friday and Saturday, Rachel and I worked on baking cupcakes. Although she thought it was her birthday again, she still had fun.
I also took Rachel with me to the decorating “party” on Friday night. I knew I wouldn’t get much done–we managed to hang ONE star on the wall–but I knew it would be so ahead of time. My goal wasn’t to be hugely productive. My goal was to show Rachel what it means to be a part of something in several stages.
Did that bother me? Yes. I love this event and want to contribute my share to the scores of hardworking volunteers. Plus, it felt odd to be there and not be “helping,” but I want Rachel to learn how to be a part of something bigger than she is. To do that, I have to take things one step at a time.
After we did our big huge star hanging job, Rachel retreated to a dark stairwell, which meant I had to stand there and keep an eye on her. My heart sank as the others climbed on ladders, ferried giant TX flags and worked themselves into a frenzy to transform a drab gym into a Texas wonderland.
But then something wonderful happened. A young man said hello to me. He held the ladder for one of my friends and handed her pieces of tape with undying patience. He held out his hand, told me his name, and said, “I have autism.” He went on to tell me he’d been helping his mom with the prom for ten years and made sure he did a very good job decorating because it’s a very important event.
It. Was. Beautiful.
I think that conversation was most of the reason I was there that night. To see what an amazing young man he has become. To see what kind of hope there is for Rachel in the future. To see what one step at a time can do for a person.
Someday that might be Rachel. Someday we might hang two decorations, then four, then ten, then be able to help make them. Someday she might hold a ladder and introduce herself to a young person with autism and give their mother a big ray of hope.
The young man’s mom also talked to me and introduced me to his brother, which I think should be another blog. They had lots of great advice…
Anyway, the prom itself was beautiful. Rachel danced some and sat some. I think her favorite part was drinking the lemonade. We saw several people from our Special Olympics sports groups, but Rachel was quite confused to see them at her party. And I found out my 8-year-old nephew is a dancing machine. Wish I’d gotten a video.