Monday, June 10, 2013

Andrew ...

Marlene Terry
Most of us enter middle age and beyond thinking that life has pretty much changed. I mean the house is suddenly quiet and orderly. We have time now and then, to take a leisurely nap, and the money that heretofore was always on its way out of our wallets to be used for any purpose or needs the kids had, is still there ... and improving or at least adding to the opportunities WE have to enjoy life ...  albeit in a much more alone state than we've ever been in before.
Then without warning tiny, endearing creatures — our wonderful grandchildren — appear. 

At first it's small, how they influence our lives. But in the end they become all consuming, perfect and obsessive, as in how often we need to see them, hug them, and enjoy how they think, what they say and how good they make us feel. Then, we truly begin to see life through THEIR eyes, worry over their challenges and cheer them on even in their smallest achievements.

Andrew, 6 now, is the third in our grandson count. He is also one of the most happy, sweet and loving boys ever born.
Autism makes things, most of us think of as normal and ordinary, very difficult for him. But somehow Andrew has the ability to look beyond the storm clouds to the sunny days ahead and moves on.   

Take for instance the prayer.
Picture of Andrew, a child with Autism
Not too long ago several members of our family gathered to say farewell after a weekend of visiting and fun. Andrew was a little agitated with the goings-on, not quite understanding what was about to occur. It was then it happened. With his little boy grin he grabbed the hand of his Uncle Mike, pulling him to the center of the room and blurted out.
"Everybody get in a circle."
We did as he asked.
"Now join pinkies," he continued. "Say a prayer."
Andrew's dad offered. "You want Daddy to say it, right?"
Andrew looked at the faces of those standing in the circle, broadened his smile and remarked. "No. Andrew will say it!"
And he did.

With one eye opened so there would be no chance of him missing anyone, Andrew moved his attention from one family member to the next, naming each one individually as he humbly thanked his Heavenly Father for those who stood  there with him that day, and then asked that we could ALL "be blessed, too."

Following his final "Amen," there was of course much emotion, tears of joy and laughter. Andrew just giggled, hugged each one of us and skipped away.

Yep! No doubt about it. Grandchildren ARE wonderful!

Take a second to watch the video posted on this page about Autism and Love or follow this link. 

♦Hope you'll let me share your stories and photos here at my new residence "In a Nutshell." Email me at