It still exists

The other night, after the family and I watched the annual lighting of the courthouse, we went out to eat.

For most, dining out is a pleasurable experience, engaging in conversation. enjoying good food, and best of all, no dishes to wash.

But for me, it’s a chance to down aspirin and indulge in a Maalox milkshake later. Most of the time Robert (youngest) is an angel, quietly observing his surroundings, amusing himself with his reflection in the silverware. However, there are times when his autism is very appearent, yelling out, flapping his hands.

I know he can’t help it, that’s not what bothers me. It’s the stares and rude comments from other patrons, all the while I’m trying to curb his over-stimulation.

So this night my stomach joined my toes as we walked into our favorite Chinese eatery. It was packed, and Robert (because of the Christmas lighting) was teetering on over-stimulation.

He hopped in place and flapped. “Look, ‘Fried Chicken on Wednesday. Kids eat free,” he screamed.

**Side note** Let me point out here that the child is in kinder, reads on a 6th grade reading level, and can type in web site address (from memory) into the http address bar.

I calmed him, and with promises of a plate of yard bird, I lured him to our table.

Our waitress was friendly, but not the hyper, I’ll-give-your-hubby-a-lap dance-for-a-tip type. “What’ll you have, honey? she asked, laying her hand on his shoulder.

Robert , engrossed in what was on the big screen TV a few yards away, ignored her.

“Yoo-hoo, I’m here,” she said, waving her hand in front of Robert’s face.

“He’s autistic,” Seth blurted.

The waitress took a step backward, looking as if someone had smashed a Christmas ornament on her head.

I groaned and took a deep breath, readying my self to answer the barrage of questions sure to follow. “Had I seen Rain Man?” “Did I know Jenny McCarthy?” Or my favorite: “What did [I] do while [I] was pregnant to cause this?”

But I was wrong. Instead, the waitress got on Robert’s eye level, got his attention, and asked him what he wanted.

Throughout the rest of our stay, she frequented our table, asking Robert questions and making small talk with him questions.

After the dishes were cleared, Robert and Seth ran ahead to look at the indoor coy pond near the register.

My heart nearly stopped as I watched our waitress sit beside Robert. I’m paranoid when it comes to my children, and the sight of the woman embracing my son was more than I could stand.

I walked toward them (and for reasons still unknown to me) stopped within earshot. I listened, unseen, from behind a stand of artificial trees.

“Do you know why I’m hugging you?” the woman asked. “It’s because I love you. You’re a very special, wonderful, person who’ll do great things. Don’t let anyone say you can’t. I believe in you.”

I’m glad to have witnessed that, and to realize true kindness still exists.