At ArtPrize, a young teenager said, “My brother has autism. He’s brilliant but he flaps his hands.
Grown adults call him ‘retard.’ Thank you for getting it. Thank you for understanding.” Then she left crying.
“This exhibit is my son,” said an attractive mom. “He loves origami. That’s all he does. I could hear his story in the other children’s stories. This work is so touching. Thank you.”
“Please don’t use the ‘A’ word,” said David’s mother. “The word autism wasn’t allowed in my vocabulary.”
She explains, “But David was wired differently. If things didn’t go his way, he had a huge melt down—screaming, hitting, or slamming doors. At night, I only had about ten hours off duty before he woke again. I struggled with horrible despair.”
After years of therapy, David began to make progress. Eventually, his IQ jumped from 50 to 80. A real miracle. He even graduated to a public school, and after his seventh birthday, he no longer wore diapers.
“Though it has taken a long time to accept the word autism,” David’s mother continued, “I now understand that autism doesn’t define my son; it isn’t a tragedy. There are other aspects of my son’s personality like being friendly and kind that don’t have anything to do with autism. David is still a great kid; he just happens to be a great kid with autism.”
Note: A special thank you to the families who shared stories of children within Hope Network.
Thank you for visiting Wing and a Prayer. I appreciated all your support and votes.
As of Saturday evening, ArtPrize visitors added 16,000 wishes and prayers to the Wall of Hope.
Wing and a Prayer showcasing at the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel.
Wings of Love: Excerpts of Tyler’s Story:
I have autism! So it’s hard for me to use words or express my feelings. When I was younger, I used colors to describe how I felt. I would tell my mom my “head was turning green” whenever I felt angry or totally overwhelmed. So my mother would hug or rock me until I calmed down and felt the color blue.
I’m also afraid that others will look at me differently. But if they could see what is in my heart, they would see a real human being. Not an outcast or a kid to dislike.
One of my teachers said that I would never learn how to read or do math, but she didn’t understand my determination. As a high school junior, I now play varsity hockey, get good grades in Algebra 2, and achieve pretty well socially too.
I can’t get my autism to go away no matter how hard I try. But I’m living proof that people can’t tell me how far I can go. That is up to me!
A middle-aged woman approached me at ArtPrize and said, “Your art is powerful. It helps me to remember. I’m a teacher with two autistic children in my classroom. Yesterday was a challenging day.”
Trying to understand, I asked, “What does my work help you remember?”
She paused and then said, “While reading the story about the high school boy with autism, I could feel his heart. Especially his statement, ‘I’m still human.’ Your work helps me remember that my autistic students are still human.”
Visitors encourage me with profound statements:
Your art helps us emotionally connect to issues we might only understand on the intellectual level.
You always have such thought-provoking pieces.
You’re not selling; it seems like you are giving. Your artwork is powerful, spiritual, and engaging.
A young mom summed up the work: “Thank you for what you wrote. My son is on the autism spectrum. This story gives me hope.”
Over 9000 notes have been added to the Wall of Hope so far at the Wing and a Prayer exhibit.
A special thank you…
See Wing and a Prayer at the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel
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