A friend was telling me about a few of the many times she spent with my son. Her heart is big enough to welcome both Benjamin and another young adult named Kayla, who also has a disability, on regular outings. 

 

For reasons she cannot explain one of the rear doors in my friend's car is uncooperative about opening from the inside. This inconvenience resulted in Benjamin getting ornery the first time he tried to let himself out, and needed assistance. But the following week Kayla sat there. Once the car was parked, Ben leaped out of the other side of the car, and hurried over to her door to open it for her. He was eager to save her any trouble. 

 

There was another week when Benjamin was out of sorts. He grumbled about the wind, and the cold. 

 

"Are you okay?" Kayla asked. 

 

Then there was a day when the three of them ran into another woman walking her puppy. Kayla was a bit overwhelmed by the exuberance of the small dog, and stepped back. Benjamin put his arm around her protectively. 

 

Ben is much taller than Kayla, and when they go on walks the difference in height is obvious. And yet there is a spark of friendship that seems to depend on something more substantial than their physical circumstances.

 

 

My son is not what you might call normal. He has autism, and wrestles with anxiety. It can be tiring to navigate his moods. But then comes a moment like these, when rather than behaving in an ordinary way, he displays an empathy that I can only call extraordinary.