I'm not a person who believes in chances and luck. I think that there are no accidents. I believe that people are put in our lives to make us who we are and show us who we were meant to be. Call me crazy - I know I can't prove any of it - but there is a part of me that will always believe in fate.
I believe that, for the most part, the wonderful people in Jack's life - all of the therapists, aides, and teachers - who work with him each day are there because everything happens for a reason. The speech therapist who started working with him when he was first diagnosed was connected to the best gastroenterologist in the city. Her husband was an anesthesiologist at the children's hospital we frequent. As a result, Jack got top-notch GI care and always has a personal anesthesiologist who watches over him and requests to be on Jack's cases whenever he shows up on their patient list. Her brother-in-law also works at Brian's law firm. Small world, right?
Brian's dad coached the son of a lady who is the special education coordinator at our church. It is because of this connection with her that we found out that our church held free (yes, free) special needs music classes. From that, we learned that it was absolutely possible for Jack to go through religious education like the other children - the parish would just find him an aide. He could - and would - do his sacraments like every other child.
It was through her that we were introduced to Miss C., a senior at the local Catholic high school who had expressed an interest in working with special needs children in the parish. The special education coordinator knew that there were families like ours who could not attend Mass because our special needs kiddos would be unable to tolerate the noise, the sitting still, and everything that goes with an hour-long Mass and who needed extra help and attention if they were to be in the nursery. So, she asked Miss C. to help out by playing with Jack in the nursery. It was a slow adjustment, but Jack seemed to really trust and enjoy being around Miss C. each Sunday.
Towards the end of the Summer of 2012, we began to wonder if Jack should start PSR - the Parish School of Religion - like all of the other 3-year olds in the parish. I talked to the special education coordinator about it. She has never been one to say "No" to our special needs kiddos doing anything in the parish, and was enthusiastic that Jack should attend PSR like all of the other 3-year olds - with an aide. I agreed, paid his tuition, and kept my fingers crossed that we weren't making a mistake.
Towards just a couple of weeks before PSR began, the coordinator called and said that Miss C. had volunteered to be Jack's aide. I was delighted; there would be no adjustment to a new person because Miss C. was someone Jack already knew. I gladly agreed.
The year went on in PSR. Every Sunday, Jack would go to PSR and Miss C. would meet him at the classroom door with some letters or a calendar - one of his newer loves - as he arrived. We got to where we would tell him each Sunday morning, "Go see Miss C.?", to which he'd respond, "More Miss C." He seemed to really enjoy his time with her. His face would light up when he'd see her. Miss C. meant a lot to him and as such she meant a lot to us.
We knew our days would be numbered with her, though. She was a senior in high school and - as seniors tend to do - she was heading to college the following Fall. This Fall. That meant that we would be getting a new aide - never easy for Jack - and losing Miss C. I didn't know how we could replace her. She had simply set the bar too high when it came to being a friend to our sweet boy.
What I didn't know was how much Jack meant to her.
Last Thursday night as I was reading in bed, I saw on my phone that I got an email. It was from Miss C. The special education coordinator had given her my email address so she could share something with me.
You see - like so many seniors in the throes of college applications - she had written many college admission essays. The prompts for these are the predictable sort, but the one she repeatedly chose was this:
Describe a person who has had a significant influence on your life and why.
She could have chosen anyone, from teachers to her parents to clergy to the president, but she chose none of them. She chose a little boy with autism.
She chose to write about Jack. Of a world's worth of people for a 17-18 year old to write about, she chose my boy.
Needless to say, I went to what my stepmom calls "the Ugly Cry" quickly. I asked Miss C. if I could share her words with you, and she graciously gave her permission. Here is just how much Jack meant to Miss C., in her own words:
The person who has had a significant influence on me is Jack. Jack is a three year old autistic boy who really has changed my life. I met little Jack about two months ago when I expressed an interest in Special Needs children to a volunteer at church. They set me up to work with Jack on his social skills every Sunday, and I have been helping him ever since then.
Jack is exceptionally intelligent for his age; he can already spell out certain words. Jack is also such a sweet little boy with such a kind heart, and he has taught me so much about what it is like to be different. Although he is only three, he does not care what others think of him. He walks around, minding his own business, and casually walks by those, even parents, who give him looks regarding his differences. Jack has also taught me that he, just like all other Special Needs children, is no different in God’s eyes. Jack is just as much a child of God as anyone else.
The greatest influence Jack has had on my life is that he has allowed me to find and dig deeper into something I am very passionate about. I always knew I had an interest in Special Needs children, but Jack has really opened by eyes to the world of opportunities in the field of Special Education. Being able to help Jack has made me realize that this is my calling in life. I now firmly believe that I have a calling to work with Special Needs children in some way or another. It is crazy to think that in just two short months, a three year old has influenced me enough to already know what I want to do with my life. Jack may not know this now, but he has forever changed my life, and I am sure as he grows older, he will influence the lives of many more.
See why I went to the Ugly Cry?
And I was in awe. It revitalized my faith in the good people of this world. If our nation is raising young people such as Miss C., we must be doing something right. If special education classrooms across our country could only be filled with Miss Cs in a few years, we would be a lucky group of parents indeed.
It was also the realization of a hope and wish I have for Jack. You see, when he was diagnosed - once I was past that initial stage of despair and grief that many of us undergo - my wish for Jack's life was that he could make a difference in the world in his own way. By encouraging Miss C. to go into special education, Jack has potentially made a difference for all of the children who will walk through Miss C's classroom doors in the future. She's one of the good ones, and Jack sold her to our cause.
See, my friends? It's possible. Let your children out into the world so that they can touch lives and make a difference. Remember, there are no coincidences. There are no random happenings. Everything and everyone we encounter is there for a reason.
Let your child be someone else's life changer, because as I've seen with Jack, he makes a bigger difference being himself than I ever could with my pen or keyboard.
May all young people be as kind and compassionate as Miss C., and may all of our children find their own Miss Cs.