May 10, 2009


The following is a poem written by Sally Meyer. I came across this poem several years ago when we first learned about the autism that came to dwell with our family. It brought me a lot of comfort at the time, and still does. A special thank you goes to Sally for letting me post it!

How did it all begin?

I was seated in a spacious room, with many other women, the room was adorned with beautiful paintings of children, the beauty and innocence of their faces lent an atmosphere of wondrous joy to the room. Silence permeated the air, as we sat together, no one uttered a word, and I wondered why we were gathered there. The sound of a door opening behind me broke the silence, no one turned to look, we all remained perfectly still, there was a reverence in the air, a feeling of great joy.

I felt someone touch my shoulder, and rising immediately I followed the others who were chosen, and we made our way softly out of the capacious room. Walking along a narrow hallway, lined with mirrors framed in gold, we passed beneath twinkling chandeliers that sparkled overhead. We were led into another room even more prodigious than the first, and it was so dimly lit that I stumbled slightly as I entered. As the last woman proceeded through the door, it closed softly behind us. An audible gasp emanated from all who stood within that exquisite room, for there, before us were a chorus of children. They were clothed as we were in purest white, and they stood hand in hand softly singing. Their faces glowed with a beauty that defied description. A hush fell upon us as we gazed in awe, at the wondrous sight before us. No words were spoken, for mere words could not describe the scene that we beheld that night. A voice came from the back of the room, a soft, compelling voice, we looked around us, but could not see who was speaking.

"Heed well my words, dear sisters, for you have been chosen to receive these children. One day you will become the mothers of the children you see before you now. These children that stand so glorious in their perfection are the self same children that will be your own. These children will struggle in their mortal lives. Some will be blind, some deaf, or unable to speak. Others will battle with a body that will fail them. Some will never understand the world to which they are sent. Many of these children will become ill, victims of illness and disease. Then there will be those who, while they are born perfect and whole, will suddenly and without warning be taken from your arms. You will weep a thousand tears as you wonder why, you will fall to your knees in despair, because you will not remember this day, or the perfect children you see before you now. Your journey will be hard, your road a long and difficult one. You may stumble and your steps falter as you struggle to carry on. But fear not, for I will be with you always, my peace will remain with you and you will be blessed with great joy that other mothers may never know. You will have the knowledge that your child will return to me, to become perfect and whole again, as you see them now. You will learn patience, grace and charity. Your prayers will not go unanswered, for I will not leave you alone, to care for these, my favored of all children, who will be entrusted to your care. I will comfort you in your darkest hours. I will be with you in your sorrow, and weep with you as you grieve. Now go forward and choose."

I watched as other mothers moved slowly forward, mingling with the children, I watched them choose carefully that child who would be their own. Once again a light touch prompted me to action, and I walked among the children. There were so many, each so beautiful, how would I know? How could I choose?

For the third time that evening, I felt a gentle touch, and I turned to see a small boy standing before me. His eyes were of the deepest grey, they seared my soul as they looked up into mine. Kneeling down in front of him, I caressed the dark curls that framed his innocent face. Taking his small hand in mine, I kissed it gently. As I gazed into this beautiful face, recognition overwhelmed me, he smiled and spoke softly and with the voice of an angel, he uttered just one word .. . . ."Mother" . . . . . . . .


  1. I'm sitting here crying. That was so so so beautiful, and I am so glad you posted it today. Thank you. I needed that.

  2. That was so beautiful and made me so weepy! Thank you for sharing it!

  3. what a touching story....
    thank you for sharing it!!

  4. Thank you for sharing that! It was just what I needed to read today.




Ernie and Oscar learn they like different things-great for kids on the Spectrum!