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I met the sweetest young man today. He was standing outside waiting for the office building to open.

Today is the day I met with my therapist to sort through a few things. The young man was talking to himself and when I came up to the door and realized it was locked he went into a monologue about the various people who work in the office, what time they go to lunch, how often he comes in for a visit, etc. His grandmother was sitting in the car taking a nap. My guess is she was stealing a quick 10 minutes of quiet.

This sweet young man who stood on the tips of his toes was 9 years old and if I’m a bettin girl, most likely Autistic or at least a high functioning form or Aspergers. Of course I do not know I’m only guessing. He talked and talked. In the ten minutes we waited I learned about his DS system, his favorite games, what he hopes to save money for and what he hopes to get for his birthday in March. He had a voice and man he was using it!

Voice

When we finally were let in the waiting room his grandmother went to the restroom and he offered for me to sit next to him to watch him play his DS. I smiled at the suggestion but politely declined. “I think I’m just going to sit here and wait,” I said.

He talked a little bit more about the game he was playing and then his grandmother joined him. Suddenly it went quiet. He was sitting in the middle chair of 3 that were against the wall. When she sat down she instructed him to get up and go to the farthest chair and she put her purse in the chair between them. Then she told him to lower the volume on his DS…twice (I couldn’t hear it at all).

Time ticked through the silence. My therapist was 20 minutes late which wasn’t like her so I called her cell and left a message letting her know that I would stay another five minutes otherwise we needed to reschedule but that I was leaving for Germany on the 20th.

When I got off the phone the Grandmother was all about asking where I was going in Germany. We had a pleasant conversation (from which she obviously eavesdropped on my call) and yet the boy said nothing. The young man outside would have surely started telling me about the vacations he has been on or maybe a little tale on an adventure he has had in the past.

Suddenly the door opened with my therapist walking her previous client out. She saw me and realized her mistake, she had mistaken my option of two times she’d given. But (praise be to God) she had an opening right then so I went in.

When I left the main key to what I need to work through in what is sure to be some of the most precious and blessed months of my healing journey is to find my voice. The voice I wasn’t allowed to use as a child. The voice that was shushed by guilt and shame.

I thought about the innocent little boy, his beautiful voice and his ability to feel comfortable enough with me to rattle off his stream of conscienceness. And I thought about the silence that followed…

God gave us a voice to be heard.

Blessings

Shannon

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