“I bought more candy-grams, Mom,” Alec says with a big smile as we drive home from school just two days before Valentine’s Day.
“Alec, you already bought twelve candy-grams,” I frown. “Do you really need more?”
Alec’s school was selling the candy-grams as a fundraiser for the holiday. For twenty-five cents you could send a single hard candy with a note of friendship.
This particular morning I had asked my sixth-grader to pick a few names of special classmates to send a candy token of friendship.
“So, Alec, how many friends would you like to send a candy-gram?” I asked, leaning against the door frame supervising the early morning routine.
“Oh, lots, Mom,” Alec pulls his sweatshirt over his head. He has forgotten to take off his pajama top first again.
“Yes … but … can you narrow it down a bit, Buddy?” I ask, pulling the sweatshirt back over his head to remove the pajama top. ”Are there any friends who help you every day, Alec? Who are your closest friends?”
“All of them, Mom,” he answers. Uh oh. I realize that we might be heading into trouble.
“Okay, Alec, but let’s keep it to twelve candy-grams, all right?” I run my hands through some serious bedhead. We are going to be late … again.
Driving home that afternoon, Alec tells me that he has surpassed the limit. He has sent sixteen candy-grams.
“Well, that’s okay, Alec. Sixteen it is, then.” We drive the rest of the way home in silence. I glance at my son. He smiles the rest of the way home while I pray:
Lord, please let him get one candy-gram … Just one, Lord. Please.
On the afternoon of Valentine’s Day, I drive though the car line at Alec’s school and I see my son. He is standing by a tree with a look on my face that makes my stomach sink. His expression is like a storm cloud.
The candy-grams.
“What’s wrong, Buddy?” I pretend not to know.
“I didn’t get any candy-grams from my friends, Mom.” Alec gets into the car and stares at his lap. I fumble for words to cheer him up while the familiar feeling of being out of control—of not knowing how to help him—rises within me. It is hard and cold and empty.
“I’m so sorry, Alec,” I put my hand on his head. One of us is about to cry, but I’m not sure who it is. “But…” I search for words, “Did you make anyone else happy today? Were your friends happy when they got your candy-grams?”
Suddenly, Alec looks up. “Oh, yeah, Mom,” as the clouds dissipate from his face. “They were so happy to get my candy-grams!”
I sense another lesson in life that my son is about to teach me.
“And look!” Alec reaches into his green bookbag and pulls out a small, red heart-shaped box, one of those Russell Stover hearts filled with 5 or 6 chocolates. “Look what Ms. Dill gave me!”
I look and see some writing on the side of the box. The handwriting reads:
“To Ms. Dill” in bold, black Sharpie.
It’s the penmanship of a child writing a sweet note to a teacher.
“When did you get this, Alec?”
“Oh, Ms. Dill gave it to me when I was out on the steps, right after they handed out the candy-grams.” Alec smiles and rips away the clear wrapping of the chocolates.
“Were you upset, Alec?” I ask. “When Ms. Dill found you on the steps, were you upset?”
“Well, yeah,” Alec looks down, embarrassed, as the storm clouds momentarily appear, but he shrugs them away. “But Ms. Dill, she found me and said she had something very special for me. Then she went inside and came back with this!” He holds up the shiny red heart and smiles his big, bright, beautiful smile.
It is one of the best Valentine’s Day gifts that I have ever received.
And so Ms. Dill saves the day, I think. She gave my boy one precious Valentine gift, a gift given to her and passed on to my son. Thank you, Ms. Dill. Thank you.
Do you know a “Ms. Dill” in your life?
It’s hard raising a child with special needs. We so want the world to see our kids as we do, but sometimes that doesn’t happen. But every so often, we come across one special person, an angel on earth, who reaches out in a simple way and makes our journey a little easier.
People who “get it.”
They may never realize how much they bless us, but their encouragement strengthens us so we can keep walking and be the parents that our kids need us to be.
Someone probably came to mind as your read this post, a person who in some way has made your journey brighter… someone like Ms. Dill. Do you have the name of that someone?
If so, would you do something for me? Toss a pebble and see where the ripples go.
When we toss a pebble of encouragement into the world, it sends a ripple wide and far, one that reaches other lives, multiplies, and bounces back to us. That’s what is so amazing about love: when we give it, it returns to us.
Would you take a moment and forward this post to that person with a simple note that says that they, too, encouraged you in a special way? Just a simple note thanking them for making a difference on a hard day?
It’s a fantastic way to spread awareness about special needs, and it’s so easy to do! Write one small note that lets them know that they shared a burden in a way that said, “Hey, I understand.”
And me? I know who will receive my note:
Ms. Dill … thank you. You blessed us, and, yes, it made a difference.
“Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm,
for God can be trusted to keep his promise. Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works.”- Hebrews 10:23-24
New Living Translation (NLT)Don’t forget to vote for Not Alone in the About.com Readers Choice Awards. You can vote every day until the contest ends March 19th.
Such a precious post!! It’s funny…My “Mrs. Dill” often turns out to be strangers. God has placed that special person in the right spot, at the right time, on the right day. For example..My son and I have had a rough day home schooling. We took a break and headed to one of his favorite stores. In that store is a person that is visually impaired and my son and he start up a conversation about “retro” video games. It was awesome…the two laughed and talked for at least 45 minutes:) That young man was my Mrs. Dill that day….:)
Loved this Kelly. Will pass it on. Thanks!
Bless Ms. Dill and her ability to see all of her students. That is the sign of a really good teacher. I’m glad you’re going to say thanks to her.
I hear of all this hoopla over Ann Curry’s 26 things to do for others and I think, you should have been doing this all along. And don’t worry about someone across the country, do something nice for the person right next to you, in the next house, the next cubicle, the next desk. All of those children in that class should have been doing something nice. In their own classroom.
I’m a big believer in watching for needs right in front of us, too.
Wow! The tears are welling up. But not tears of pain, but of joy as I remember some special people in my son’s life. Thanks for reminding me of the good times!
Thanks, Ruth. The blessings outweigh the challenges, don’t they?
Alec….God bless him. (and Mrs. Dill too.)
Kelly, I read this with the familiar lump in my throat.And then smiled at the triumph of Ms. Dill. I rejoice with you for her sensitivity and covering of your son. And for the God who saw and motivated her heart. I pray for your son to remain tender as he grows older despite the lack of reciprocal response. I pray for a sweet friend before next Valentine’s Day. Thank you for reminding me that I want to be Ms. Dill in the lives of those around me. I pray for eyes to see as He sees and a heart of compassion that moves me to action. God bless you in your journey.
Kelly, thank you for this beautifully written reminder of those moments I’ve hurt so for my kids and for the times that God has blessed us with a Ms. Dill.
Alec is blessed to have a godly teacher and mother. This blog has touched my heart and I am sure many others. Many parents are simply unaware of how school events such as this often hurt those children who are overlooked. We need to find a way to educate the parents and children.
I sent the link to this entry to our “Mrs. Dill,” thanking her for working with our son every day. I don’t think she even realized how much her efforts touch the rest of the family as well. Thank you for sharing…
Love this post, Kelly! We have been blessed with people like that in our lives too. Our kids really do teach us so much.
Yes, they do, don’t they?
Beautiful post written by a woman with a beautiful heart!
Kelly, Your blog touched my heart. It’s a reminder to each of us to be more sensitive to those around us whether they are across the city, state, or country. We need to be more aware of the heartbreak of some of those with whom we are in contact every day.
I want to give you a scripture,” He who would be the greatest among you, let him become servant of all.” God bless you. Dad
When given the opportunity, may we all be as kind as Ms. Dill
(and as generous as Alec). God Bless. Donna Wolery