By The Healing Project
A strong reaction to a mysterious disease, this compilation positive factors dozens of writers from all walks of lifestyles talking candidly approximately their reviews with autismвЂ”a ailment that affectsВ more thanВ a part million american citizens below the age of 21 at each point of society. full of actual tales of the oldsters of autistic little ones, their caregivers, lecturers, and buddies, the tales awarded either encourage and tell, delivering a palpable feel of connection and neighborhood. A finished source part for these looking present information regarding the technology and remedy of autism is usually incorporated. Heartfelt and emotional, this informative quantity really affirms the energy of the human spirit.
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Extra info for Voices of Autism: The Healing Companion: Stories for Courage, Comfort and Strength
But I made an appointment the next day to have Laura tested. ” This is a word that I loathed because value is embedded in it: someone was determining the worth of our child’s abilities. ” She couldn’t stack the blocks or roll the ball. She usually ended up hysterical because she didn’t understand what was happening. I wanted to say, “Look. Look at her sweet face. ” Why were these strangers important? Why were we going to all of these offices filled with toy-boxes and brightly colored chairs? We began to lose the rosy lens through which most parents view their children.
She usually ended up hysterical because she didn’t understand what was happening. I wanted to say, “Look. Look at her sweet face. ” Why were these strangers important? Why were we going to all of these offices filled with toy-boxes and brightly colored chairs? We began to lose the rosy lens through which most parents view their children. I suddenly felt that I had to get to know Laura on new terms, terms of limitation and difference. After that first evaluation, we tried to find a miracle toy: Jeff and I thought we just hadn’t found the one thing that would crack open the shell that seemed to have closed around Laura.
The therapist asked. When our daughter didn’t react, the therapist pulled out a bottle of soap bubbles and started blowing. Laura, our daughter, was busily running her fingers back and forth across a green rubber doorstop as the bubbles, unnoticed, lazily drifted to the floor around her. My husband Jeff and I looked on while the therapist scratched notes onto the forms on her clipboard. She did not view our toddler as we did, complete and affectionate; she saw symptoms and categories, deficits and pluses, checks in a row of small boxes.