Thursday, April 15, 2010

A Particle of Faith

Faith is a simple principle that can be very difficult to put into practice. It is simple for me to kneel at night and pour my heart out to my Father, but it is difficult for me to believe that everything will work out all right. It is simple for me to ask for the strength to endure, but it is difficult for me to believe that He will provide it for me.

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."-Hebrew 11:1

The prophet Alma said that faith is not a perfect knowledge. In teaching the word of God to those around him, he stated that at first, they could not know, for sure, whether his words were true any more than faith is a perfect knowledge. Alma then speaks of an experiment. This is one of my all time favorite scriptures:

"But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words."-Alma 32:27

I love, in this scripture, where he says: "Even if ye can no more than desire to believe..." Can you imagine that just this one tiny spark of desire to believe can be as a seed; planted in your heart. If you grasp on to that one little tiny spark of desire this seed can start to grow. It will begin to swell within your heart.

"It must need be that this is a good seed... for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me."-Alma 32:28

At the time when that seed was being nurtured, faith was in the works. I conducted this experiment in my own heart. I prayed as the missionaries had taught, and I asked, "Is this church true?" I received the answer in my heart just as Alma described.

Now, I know that the church is true. My faith in that matter is no longer in the works. Is my knowledge perfect? No. With that tiny desire to believe, I exercised my faith. The nurtured seed sprouted and grew. My understanding was broadened slightly; the edges of it meeting more questions which led to more exercising of my faith.

There are many sanctities in this world in which we place our faith. To name a few: marriage, religion, government, society, economy, even friendship. So, obviously, faith is an intrinsic value that we, as children of our Heavenly Father, have inherited.

My entire life is a great example of the shepherd searching for that one lost lamb. I am utterly and eternally grateful for the changes wrought in my life because I exercised my faith. As are, I'm sure, my progeny.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

There's a Little Boy in There

One night I had the opportunity to ride shotgun in a mini-van with another mom as we returned from an overnight trip to Salt Lake City. Behind us, the car was full of giggling, chattering teenage girls as well as the music they had requested. As Kristin gripped the steering wheel to safely keep up with the intimidating pace of the lead vehicle of our tiny convoy, we kept up steady conversation; the heater keeping us toasty and the music volume being readjusted continually.

I always enjoy getting to know people. My inquisitiveness never ends. This conversation was especially fun because Kristin seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me, too. We shared many a hardy laugh as we found similarities in our personalities. Like how, at the mall that day, a young woman had pulled Kristin down into a chair to let her sample the best base foundation ever. As the girl applied the makeup on Kristin's face she rambled on about her looking great for Christmas dinner. In the car, Kristin and I threw our heads back in laughter because neither one of us even own a lick of makeup.

Eventually, the conversation turned to a topic where we had nothing in common. Kristin's thirteen year old son has Tuberous Sclerosis. Davis has more tumors in his brain than the radiologist could count.

First and foremost, let me say that I'm probably not aware of the politically correct terms, so accept my apology right now. I did not grow up around anyone with disabilities or mental retardation. Even now, as an adult, it makes me nervous just because I'm afraid to offend.

My first time to interact with Davis was when I did a photo shoot of Kristin's family. Prior to the shoot I asked lots of questions to learn Davis's level of awareness and how best to prepare. And as far as interacting with Davis personally, I followed his family's example.

Davis is my height with wavy dark red hair. When he's happy his eyes twinkle and he has a great smile. Until I got used to it, his way of vocalizing was a little unnerving, but I began to recognize when he was happy and learned how to capture his attention. Davis loves music. According to his mom, Davis vocalizes along to songs from Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof, and Children's Primary songs. When he's really excited, Davis will go from person to person vocalizing while smiling into face after face. And he doesn't mind at all being touched.

So during this long drive, I learned that Davis was far, far different up till the age of five. Autism had been just one of the many possible symptoms of Tuberous Sclerosis and the official diagnosis of autism was made when Davis was three. During an evaluation, Davis spun every toy they gave him. The test administrator tried to get him to imitate her by driving a small car back and forth and then handing it to Davis. He would spin it. There was no evidence that he understood anything, except when his mom would say his name, which elicited only a turn of his head. When spoken to, even about favorite items or activities, his expression never changed until he actually saw or did it. To which, they would have to carry him because he wouldn't come when called. He would never express a want. He didn't gesture to communicate. He never, ever initiated contact of any sort with even his own adoring mother.

As we drove through the dark night surrounded by the frigid cold, our eyes seeing only as far as the headlights could reach, I felt Kristin's pain deep inside my own mommy heart. Then she told of a time when she was with a friend talking and her friend's daughter brought something to her. The little girl's mom brushed her off. Kristin stopped her friend and told her what a gift it was that her daughter did that. Then Kristin looked at me and said, "She took for granted something I wanted so badly from my son!"
I looked at Kristin and said, "Well, after this conversation that's something I'll never do again."

When Davis was four and a half, they started him on the Son-Rise program. Kristin and her husband received training and set up a playroom. They started with one hour a day, then two. With volunteer help they were able to build up to Davis having someone with him in the play room twelve hours a day. These patient and generous souls, including mom and dad, would join him in the playroom one on one. If Davis was spinning a Matchbox car, they would too. The very first and quite significant change brought on by simply "joining" him was that instead of remaining completely shut off from whatever was going on around him, Davis noticed the other person. He would actually pause what he was doing to look at the car being spun by another person.

Early in the program, on a day when Kristin was with Davis, she started dropping balls into a bucket. Davis stopped what he was doing to watch. She kept doing this for quite a while; buoyed by the fact that he seemed interested. When Davis made the simple act of coming over to where the action was, she was so excited she wanted to run and get her family. But she stuck with it. Eventually, she tried handing him a ball. He took the ball from her. Then she tried, "Davis, drop the ball into the bucket." He did it! After five years of never seeing her son mimic anything that anyone did, Kristin was actually seeing progress.

On another day, when she was in the playroom, Kristin was blowing up a balloon and letting it go to fly away. Davis liked this. He would kind of laugh while it wiggled noisily through the room. Kristin repeated the process over and over: blow it up, let it go. Then one time, when the balloon landed close to where Davis was, he picked it up and gave it to her, as if to say, "Do it again." This was the first time Davis had ever made a request. As Kristin reminisced about this, she exclaimed the thought that, "Holy cow! There's a little boy in there!" I thought about my own toddlers when they couldn't speak. They never gave up trying to get what they wanted. And one of their favorite games was to copy what I was doing. Even recently, my three year old has started carrying a pen and paper with him to make "lists".

From an article by Kristin:

"There have been so many changes and they have all been truly amazing. Now he plays with toys. He plays with US! He had never before imitated me, or even shown any interest in what I was doing. Now he imitates us all the time. He initiates games with us. He is so interested and aware of what's going on around him and he wants to participate. His language development has been amazing. As we began to simplify our language in the playroom he quickly learned the names for many things. To date, about six months into the program, he has shown solid comprehension of over fifty words. For example, we can now say, "Where is the elephant?", and he will jump up and go get it. We can say, "Come sit down. ", and he does. I remember the first time I said, "Davis, come here.", and he came right over to me. We see this as nothing short of a miracle. It is so wonderful that he understands us now. We are equally delighted with his expressive language development. He is now pointing to things he wants. He will bring us an empty cup when he wants a drink, or take our hand and bring us to the toy shelf when he wants a toy. Or he will bring us things and give them to us indicating what he wants. Before Son-Rise he had never, ever handed me anything. It is so wonderful to have him making requests and letting us know what he wants and needs.

"I love the connection we now have with him. His version of a hug, which is to lean into me, just melts my heart. When I am in the playroom with him I think there is no where I'd rather be. Just today I brought in a peacock feather and he laughed and tickled my face and arms with the feather. How great is that! He knows I'm his mom. He knows I love him. He is so wonderful. We are so thankful we found out about the Son-Rise program and we are so honored to have the gift of Davis in our life."

Because of the Tuberous Sclerosis, Davis's condition is more extreme than a lot of other autistic children. The Son-Rise program was created decades ago by Barry and Samarhia Kaufman who were told by doctors that the only future for their then two year old son, Raun, was in an institution. Today Raun is a college graduate with no traces of autism.

I wanted to share Kristin's story because at first Kristin had never dared to have hope. Then she learned that not only was it okay, but even wonderful to have hope. If I tell twelve people about it, and they tell twelve other people it might just reach some one who doesn't have that hope.

For more information go to autismtreatmentcenter.org .

There's a Little Boy in There

One night I had the opportunity to ride shotgun in a mini-van with another mom as we returned from an overnight trip to Salt Lake City. Behind us, the car was full of giggling, chattering teenage girls as well as the music they had requested. As Kristin gripped the steering wheel to safely keep up with the intimidating pace of the lead vehicle of our tiny convoy, we kept up steady conversation; the heater keeping us toasty and the music volume being readjusted continually.

I always enjoy getting to know people. My inquisitiveness never ends. This conversation was especially fun because Kristin seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me, too. We shared many a hardy laugh as we found similarities in our personalities. Like how, at the mall that day, a young woman had pulled Kristin down into a chair to let her sample the best base foundation ever. As the girl applied the makeup on Kristin's face she rambled on about her looking great for Christmas dinner. In the car, Kristin and I threw our heads back in laughter because neither one of us even own a lick of makeup.

Eventually, the conversation turned to a topic where we had nothing in common. Kristin's thirteen year old son has Tuberous Sclerosis. Davis has more tumors in his brain than the radiologist could count.

First and foremost, let me say that I'm probably not aware of the politically correct terms, so accept my apology right now. I did not grow up around anyone with disabilities or mental retardation. Even now, as an adult, it makes me nervous just because I'm afraid to offend.

My first time to interact with Davis was when I did a photo shoot of Kristin's family. Prior to the shoot I asked lots of questions to learn Davis's level of awareness and how best to prepare. And as far as interacting with Davis personally, I followed his family's example.

Davis is my height with wavy dark red hair. When he's happy his eyes twinkle and he has a great smile. Until I got used to it, his way of vocalizing was a little unnerving, but I began to recognize when he was happy and learned how to capture his attention. Davis loves music. According to his mom, Davis vocalizes along to songs from Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof, and Children's Primary songs. When he's really excited, Davis will go from person to person vocalizing while smiling into face after face. And he doesn't mind at all being touched.

So during this long drive, I learned that Davis was far, far different up till the age of five. Autism had been just one of the many possible symptoms of Tuberous Sclerosis and the official diagnosis of autism was made when Davis was three. During an evaluation, Davis spun every toy they gave him. The test administrator tried to get him to imitate her by driving a small car back and forth and then handing it to Davis. He would spin it. There was no evidence that he understood anything, except when his mom would say his name, which elicited only a turn of his head. When spoken to, even about favorite items or activities, his expression never changed until he actually saw or did it. To which, they would have to carry him because he wouldn't come when called. He would never express a want. He didn't gesture to communicate. He never, ever initiated contact of any sort with even his own adoring mother.

As we drove through the dark night surrounded by the frigid cold, our eyes seeing only as far as the headlights could reach, I felt Kristin's pain deep inside my own mommy heart. Then she told of a time when she was with a friend talking and her friend's daughter brought something to her. The little girl's mom brushed her off. Kristin stopped her friend and told her what a gift it was that her daughter did that. Then Kristin looked at me and said, "She took for granted something I wanted so badly from my son!"
I looked at Kristin and said, "Well, after this conversation that's something I'll never do again."

When Davis was four and a half, they started him on the Son-Rise program. Kristin and her husband received training and set up a playroom. They started with one hour a day, then two. With volunteer help they were able to build up to Davis having someone with him in the play room twelve hours a day. These patient and generous souls, including mom and dad, would join him in the playroom one on one. If Davis was spinning a Matchbox car, they would too. The very first and quite significant change brought on by simply "joining" him was that instead of remaining completely shut off from whatever was going on around him, Davis noticed the other person. He would actually pause what he was doing to look at the car being spun by another person.

Early in the program, on a day when Kristin was with Davis, she started dropping balls into a bucket. Davis stopped what he was doing to watch. She kept doing this for quite a while; buoyed by the fact that he seemed interested. When Davis made the simple act of coming over to where the action was, she was so excited she wanted to run and get her family. But she stuck with it. Eventually, she tried handing him a ball. He took the ball from her. Then she tried, "Davis, drop the ball into the bucket." He did it! After five years of never seeing her son mimic anything that anyone did, Kristin was actually seeing progress.

On another day, when she was in the playroom, Kristin was blowing up a balloon and letting it go to fly away. Davis liked this. He would kind of laugh while it wiggled noisily through the room. Kristin repeated the process over and over: blow it up, let it go. Then one time, when the balloon landed close to where Davis was, he picked it up and gave it to her, as if to say, "Do it again." This was the first time Davis had ever made a request. As Kristin reminisced about this, she exclaimed the thought that, "Holy cow! There's a little boy in there!" I thought about my own toddlers when they couldn't speak. They never gave up trying to get what they wanted. And one of their favorite games was to copy what I was doing. Even recently, my three year old has started carrying a pen and paper with him to make "lists".

From an article by Kristin:

"There have been so many changes and they have all been truly amazing. Now he plays with toys. He plays with US! He had never before imitated me, or even shown any interest in what I was doing. Now he imitates us all the time. He initiates games with us. He is so interested and aware of what's going on around him and he wants to participate. His language development has been amazing. As we began to simplify our language in the playroom he quickly learned the names for many things. To date, about six months into the program, he has shown solid comprehension of over fifty words. For example, we can now say, "Where is the elephant?", and he will jump up and go get it. We can say, "Come sit down. ", and he does. I remember the first time I said, "Davis, come here.", and he came right over to me. We see this as nothing short of a miracle. It is so wonderful that he understands us now. We are equally delighted with his expressive language development. He is now pointing to things he wants. He will bring us an empty cup when he wants a drink, or take our hand and bring us to the toy shelf when he wants a toy. Or he will bring us things and give them to us indicating what he wants. Before Son-Rise he had never, ever handed me anything. It is so wonderful to have him making requests and letting us know what he wants and needs.

"I love the connection we now have with him. His version of a hug, which is to lean into me, just melts my heart. When I am in the playroom with him I think there is no where I'd rather be. Just today I brought in a peacock feather and he laughed and tickled my face and arms with the feather. How great is that! He knows I'm his mom. He knows I love him. He is so wonderful. We are so thankful we found out about the Son-Rise program and we are so honored to have the gift of Davis in our life."

Because of the Tuberous Sclerosis, Davis's condition is more extreme than a lot of other autistic children. The Son-Rise program was created decades ago by Barry and Samarhia Kaufman who were told by doctors that the only future for their then two year old son, Raun, was in an institution. Today Raun is a college graduate with no traces of autism.

I wanted to share Kristin's story because at first Kristin had never dared to have hope. Then she learned that not only was it okay, but even wonderful to have hope. If I tell twelve people about it, and they tell twelve other people it might just reach some one who doesn't have that hope.

For more information go to autismtreatmentcenter.org .

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

The Sound of an Unplanned-for History Lesson

One morning as the whole family was coming to life in the kitchen, for some reason I began singing songs from different musicals. I love to belt out "The hills are alive with the sound of music." Shockingly, Jake and I discovered that our children had never watched The Sound of Music. So, after dinner he surprised me by offering a walk (together) to the video store (together) for the three-fer deal. This is the deal where every Tuesday you can rent three movies for three days for three dollars. We even held hands.

That evening as we collected together in our various spots in the living room, my husband announced that we would be viewing the Sound of Music. Morgan, who is five, immediately fell to the ground and broke down, crying. Jake patiently sent him upstairs and began the show.

The movie begins with music playing while photos of Austria are shown on the screen. Back when this movie was made they would would show the credits first. So, a name would appear and it would stay there for long enough that you could read it and have time to discuss with your neighbor who you think that is and why they were chosen for the part and whether or not they are still alive or why their parents would give such a name to their child. Rylee, who is nine, recognizes that this is not how movies are done nowadays and says, "I don't like how they did movies in the old days."

When the credits are finally exhausted and we, the parents, can finally exhale, the opening scene is Maria, by herself, singing on a huge grass hill. While most of us aren't really thinking all that much, Porter, who is six, asks, "Mom, why is she there and why is she singing?" That was a great question which I didn't get to answer because the next thing we knew some bells started ringing and Maria took off running. I'd like to interject here that I couldn't remember a single thing about this movie except for the music. In fact, some of the songs they sung I thought were from different movies. You know, cause Julie Andrews was also in Mary Poppins which is also a singing movie which is also about taking care of children.

I was just as surprised as the children were when we figured out that Maria was a nun. And I was just as glad when we got to the part where the actors were using dialogue. But of course, being a musical, pretty soon the nuns were singing and even doing some synchronized dancing. Porter asked why they kept "stopping talking" to sing. Being new to musicals, maybe Porter wondered if this is what Nuns do. As the pattern of normal acting and singing, may I say, dragged on, Rylee took up the very traditional act of whining: "Not the singing again." The funny thing about this is that ever since then they've all been singing whatever lines they can remember ("You are sixteen, going on seventeen...") and causing me to cringe whenever they butcher the timing of "Me, a name, I call myself...".

This movie led to a lot of new info for my children. One of which is the act of playing pranks. They could not understand why the children in the movie would put that frog into Maria's dress. And then when her kind comments at the dinner table brought out such strong guilt that the children all started crying, my children were completely puzzled which I found hilarious. The war content of the movie even led to a personal talk with Anthony, who is 14, about whether or not a people can be convinced to pursue such an atrocious cause
and not feel the evil in it.

As the plot thickened the questions were flying. Why is that girl out in the rain with that boy? Why don't they go inside? Why are they looking at each other like that? And, again, when Maria and Mr. Von Trapp fell in love: Why are they looking at each other like that?

All in all, it was fun sharing this movie from ye olden days (i.e. my childhood) with our own children. I think movies are a great tool for giving someone a stronger idea of life during time periods past. They are exposed to the unfamiliar in a safe environment which excavates discussions led by their own curiosities. And this can snowball into reading books at their level pertaining to the subject matter; or creating a reference to a lesson given later on. The Sound of Music covers history, music, politics, relationships, personal agency, fashion, dance, and even the Catholic religion.

I told my family that we should learn these songs really well so that we, too, can all break out in song together. I have exactly enough children for everyone to have a part. Some were all for it. Some said, "Pshaw" and "Yeah, right." and "You have fun with that."