Sunday Snippets by Ginger Simpson....sorta #sundaysnips

 The Moment We Met

Tension filled the air.  I recognized the feeling that something important was about to happen. My shoulders tensed and I kept my hands fisted in my lap.  I sat in an uncomfortable chair, my eyes wide, my heart pounding.  Why had I agreed to this?  I never was one for stress, nor did I handle it well.  I wondered if I should have stayed home.

What should I expect?  Would we get along?  Oh, I knew I was meeting someone of the male persuasion for the first time, but I had no idea about those things most people want to know: how tall he'd be, how much he'd weigh, what color hair...did he even have hair?  Images of me being swept off my feet boomeranged through my mind, and I imagined I’d have quite a story to tell.  Besides, I’d discover the answers to all those burning questions I’d be asked.

Time ticked by.  I probably could have left several times, but I really didn’t want to.  In my mind, today was a special day and I was so ready for it...at least I thought.  Before long, a nicely dressed man entered the room.  He was quite handsome, I thought, and my heart fluttered when he signaled for me to join him.

 "Stand right here," he said, and moved closer to the only other woman in the room. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I followed his instructions and stood, my legs wobbly, my hands shaking.  I guess I was expected to do something since I showed up.

It didn't take long before I knew I'd made the right choice.  I was so glad I came.  The doctor turned from my daughter-in-law's side and placed my new grandson in my arms. "Here you go, grandma." 

Turning pinker by the moment, the baby didn't cry, he didn't fuss, instead Spencer's gaze searched my face despite the overhead hospital light shining in his dark eyes, making them look like ebony gems.  Although they say newborns don't smile, I swear his tiny lips curled as if to say, "I'm here, and I know you'll love me so much your heart'll hurt.  You know what?  He was right?  The minute I first saw him my love blossomed and it's grown stronger ever day since that moment thirteen years ago.  My Spencer! My Love!  And the fact that he’s been diagnosed with Autism, just makes me love him more and I praise God for the moment I met my grandson.  That moment will always be a cherished memory and I thank my kids for allowing me to share it.

Spencer and Dad

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I promise next week to have a snippet from Sarah's Soul...I'm almost finished and then I plan to work on my mail-order bride story....and I'm not forgetting Deceived.  I just have to make a deal with God to live long enough to finish everything.  :)

While I'm healing from my relapse of Pneumonia...please hop over and check out my blog buddies.

http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)

http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)

http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)

Come back next week for more. Oh...checkout my Amazon page to see my available books.

Have We All Become Bullies?

I'm reminded by Spencer's recent reaction to returning to school that life isn't always kind.  He's always loved going, but this year, since he's turned ten, his autistic differences from his peers are definitely more noticeable and the kids less forgiving.  If we could write the outcome of "the story" we could manipulate the ending, but sadly, life isn't fiction.  We don't have creative license.

As adults, we're  supposed to be role models, but from the recent bitter threads I've seen on the Kindle Forums, specifically aimed at self-published authors, to the Facebook scratching and clawing over political views, I can't for the life of me figure out why we can't or won't accept there are certain inalienable rights that come with being Americans...people in general, and be better examples.

Having an opinion is guaranteed, and a good thing, so why don't we expect others to have them or respect that fact that they do?  I think because it's in how they are expressed with such hatred...don't you?

So, you like Obama, I don't.  I like Romney's running mate, you abhor him.  Should that make us enemies?  I think what we forget is there is no tone in written words, and sometimes smiley faces or "lol" just don't translate.  As an author, when writing a novel, I try to solicit emotions from you...make you feel what the characters feel, see and hear, but in real life, it's best to feel free to TELL instead of SHOW because the showing usually isn't a pretty sight.  Claw marks are ugly and I don't like seeing blood. 

I recently responded to an email with the same tone that I suspected I read in it, and I almost lost a good friend because of it.  So, it's not always what we say, but what we say back.  Think about it before you hit the send button.  Let the email sit overnight and then re-read it the next day.  I'll bet you'll have a whole different perspective.  Luckily, my friend and I both apologized, and had this caused a rift, I would have felt a genuine loss over something very petty.

For Spencer, I expect this is going to be a tough year.  Kids are asking him "what's wrong with you?"  He doesn't understand, although despite his mother's better judgement, I did try to have a little chat with him about autism and the fact that one in ten babies...mostly boys, are affected with this disorder.  His mother tells him he's special, but to me that equates "Special Ed," and I cringe to hear him tell others that.  She doesn't want him to declare he's autistic, so we're at a impasse.  I told him he isn't special...being autistic just means he has to try harder to catch up with his age group.  I respect that Mom is Mom and Grandma is, in this case, NeeNee, but I suppose I didn't set a good example for my topic today. It isn't always easy to be silent when we all feel so strongly.

It's not so much what we do, but how we do it.  Reviews on Amazon have become nasty and biting, and although constructive criticism is always welcome in my world, I don't understand those who need to tear a person's confidence down to the ground floor, and don't suppose I'm just talking about writing.  Do you stare at the person who's really fat?  Do you grimace at people in wheelchairs?  Bullying comes in many ways...and not always how to mean it, but how our actions are perceived.  I wish I had a solution.

  I guess we can just chalk up a lot of what's going on to "Misery Loves Company."  And so, as I sit before my computer, I laugh at those who are making themselves look like 'bullies' and wonder what in their life is getting better for their actions?  Can't we all just play nice?  Hug someone today....tell them they look pretty, even if you have to fib a bit.  Do something constructive...just for one day and see how it feels.

A Blue Rose

I received this email from a friend and it immediately struck me that I have a "Blue Rose" in my family. 

Until this year, Spencer's Autism hasn't been nearly as noticeable, but now I can truly see how different he is from other children.  He never knows a stranger, and he loves everyone, which is rare for children with his condition.  So, I've substituted his name in this touching story:

A Blue Rose

Having four visiting family members, my wife was very busy, so I offered to go to the store for her to get some needed items, which included light bulbs, paper towels, trash bags, detergent and Clorox. So off I went.

I scurried around the store, gathered up my goodies and headed for the checkout counter, only to be blocked in the narrow aisle by a young man who appeared to be about six-years-old. I wasn't in a hurry, so I patiently waited for the boy to realize that I was there. This was when he waved his hands excitedly in the air and declared in a loud voice, "Mommy, I'm over here."

It was obvious now, he was developmentally challenged and also startled as he turned and saw me standing so close to him, waiting to squeeze by. His eyes widened and surprise exploded on his face as I said, "Hey Buddy, what's your name?"

"My name is Spencer, he stammered, and I'm shopping with my mommy," he responded proudly.

"Wow," I said, "that's a cool name; I wish my name was Spencer, but my name is Steve."

"Steve, like Stevarino?" he asked.  "Yes," I answered. "How old are you Spence?"

"How old am I now, Mommy?" he asked his mother as she slowly came over from the next aisle.

"You're almost nine Sweetheart; now be a good boy and let the man pass by."

I acknowledged her and continued to talk to the lad for several more minutes about summer, bicycles and school. I watched his  eyes dance with excitement, because he was the center of someone's attention. He then abruptly turned and headed toward the toy section.

Spencer's mom had a puzzled look on her face and thanked me for taking the time to talk with her son. She told me that most people wouldn't even look at him, much less talk to him.

I told her that it was my pleasure and then I said something I have no idea where it came from, other than by the prompting of the Holy Spirit. I told her that there are plenty of red, yellow, and pink roses in God's Garden; however, "Blue Roses" are very rare and should be appreciated for their beauty and distinctiveness. You see, Spencer is a Blue Rose and if someone doesn't stop and smell that flower with their heart and touch that rose with their kindness, then they've missed a blessing from God.

She was silent for a second, then with a tear in her eye she asked, "Who are you?"

Without thinking I said, "Oh, I'm probably just a dandelion, but I sure love living in God's garden."

She reached out, squeezed my hand and said, "God bless you!" and then I had tears in my eyes.

May I suggest, the next time you see a BLUE ROSE, don't turn your head and walk off. Take the time to smile and say Hello. Why? Because, by the grace of GOD, this mother or father could be you. This could be your child, grandchild, niece or nephew. What a difference a moment can mean to that person or their family.

From an old dandelion!  Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.

"People will forget what you said, People will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel!"   ANON.

If this story blesses you today, please consider sharing it with others.

Note from Ginger:  I thank the person who originated this touching story...it certainly got across exactly how I feel about my grandson and I how I hope people will treat him as he matures.

The Growing Epidemic

It wasn't so long ago that the word Autism was rarely heard because it only affected one in thousands of children born in the USA. Today, that number has grown to 1 in 150. Boys are four times more likely to have the disorder than girls, although the reason is not clear. Lots of research has been done to determine HOW Autism affects the brain, but opinions on WHY are still varied.

My Grandson, Spencer, who is now six was diagnosed as having 'autistic tendencies' when he was between one and two years old. Autism is a 'spectrum disorder' because it encompasses several developmental problems: Asperger syndrome, Rett syndrome, childhood disintegrative disorder, and pervasive developmental disorder not otherwise specified, AKA PDD-NOS. As you can see, anytime there isn't a documented cause for something, it's addressed as a disorder or syndrome.

Although most autistic children cannot connect socially with others, Spencer can. He's a very loving child, but has experienced delays in most of the major milestones in his life. His autistic tendencies are most apparent in his arm flapping and stimming (repetitious humming). The degrees of this disability vary greatly in individuals. Some children cannot stand loud noises, touching, or changes in their routines. To say parents are challenged is an understatement.

There is no cure for Autism, but individualized attention can help children overcome some of the difficulties they face. While some children diagnosed with a "high-functioning" degree of autism may grow to live independent lives, most will always need some sort of assistance.

Many books have been written on the topic. Some suggest that dietary changes or daily immersion in Epsom Salt baths may help, while others advocate forgoing childhood inoculations as a preventative. Desperate parents are grappling for answers, but none are yet conclusive as to the cause.

The purpose of my blog today is to help heighten awareness about the alarming number of children who are affected with Autism. Even if it prevents one person from doing or saying something unkind about a child they consider strange, I've made some progress. It wasn't so long ago that I felt embarrassed when someone asked Spencer his name or age and he couldn't answer. It was a foolish reaction because he had no choice in the matter, but how do you explain that to a stranger...especially in front of the child? His cognitive skills are normal--he hears and understands fine, but words remained trapped somewhere in the tangle of Autism.

We're very blessed that he's made wonderful progress and can finally speak to us without the apparent frustration we once saw in his eyes. They say it takes a village to raise a child... Well, I believe it takes an entire community to help heighten awareness and understanding about Autism. Won't you please do your part. If you plan to donate money to a charity this year...even though I know the economy sucks...won't you please consider donating to help find the reasons behind this debilitating disorder? For those who can't say thank you, I'll say it for them.

For more information, please visit The Autism Epidemic

Help Me Make A Difference

For the month of June, I will donate 75% of all proceeds from book sales to aid in the fight against autism. There is a new chapter forming here in Gallatin, TN and they are desperately in need of funds. I'd love to present them with a hefty check, but I'll settle for what I can get during this next royalty period.

As many of you may know, my grandson, Spencer, has been diagnosed with developmental delays and autistic tendencies. My heart broke for him tonight when the little girl next door who is his same age asked point-blank, why he couldn't talk like everyone else. My goal is to see that he can one day... that he might mainstream into regular school classes and not be the object of unwanted remarks and questioning stares.

Autism is growing problem in the United States. In recent years the ratio of those affected were one in ten thousand births... now it's one in one hundred fifty, and most diagnosed with autism are male children. I can't think of a better way to honor Spencer than to ask your help in making a donation through purchasing a download or copy of any of my books available. You might think I should donate 100%, but I also support him with school lunches, breakfasts and supplies. A little profit would help those expenses tremendously, too.

So, buy a book and help a child. My grandson and the other children involved in this new venture thank you for any help you might offer.

Regards,
Ginger

GLOBAL DEVELOPMENTAL DELAYS

This is my grandson Spencer. He's five-years-old, but acts more like three. He's been diagnosed with GDD with Autistic tendencies. Until you see him flap his arms or hear his stimming noises while he plays, you might think he's quite normal. In some ways, he is. He loves to be loved.

Did you know that ten years ago, Autism was diagnosed in 1 in 10,000 children and today it's more like 1 in 150. Doctors don't know what has caused the sudden flare in numbers, but researchers believe it has something to do with the MMR vaccine given to our children. Of course doctors are still insisting that it's 'genetic' so who do we believe. Something had to cause such a drastic increase in numbers.

I thank the Lord that Spencer isn't affected with complete and encompassing autism. The stories of those children locked within themselves is heartbreaking. Although all of Spencer's growth milestones have been delayed, his speech has been the most affected. When I first started as his care-giver, I experienced how heart breaking it was to try to communicate with him, to deal with the frustration in his eyes when he couldn't make me understand what he wanted, but thank goodness, he's putting more and more words together every day. To see the joy on his face when I 'get' his meaning, is the greatest gift a grandmother could ever get. I pray every night that he'll keep improving and someday mainstream into regular classes at school. I remember the stigma attached to those in special classes, and I don't want him to suffer that.

I'm angry. Why? Because of circumstances I can't control. Last year he was in a wonderful pre-kindergarten class that helped him make such great progress. I had great hopes for him, but this year, because of his age, he had to move on and now he's regressing. His delays and disability aren't as serious as the children with whom he spends his days with, and now he mimics what they do. How do I teach him not to bang his head, to make strange noises or spin in circles? He's such a loving little boy and I want to make a difference in his life. I want him to be considered and treated like a normal child. But the schools aren't equipped to deal with all the different spectrums of the autism umbrella.

I can't consider homeschooling because I'm not equipped to teach him. So what do I do besides pray. I do that every night. Right now, he's learning to say his name and I'm waiting for the day when he can respond to all those people who notice what a loving little guy he is and ask him for it. Spencer Charles Jones He's the light of my life.