Peas and Carrots

Ray:
A mild, gentle, mute, and
autistic teenage boy.
Although his abilities are limited
his hormones are right on schedule.
Ray’s a pleasure to serve.

Myles:
She’s a kind,
charismatic high school senior (ACES Best Buddy)
who sacrifices her time to work with Ray and other
autistic students.
Myles is a keeper, a gem but still learning the ropes.

Myself:
A paraprofessional.
It’s a fancy title that simply means I
happily serve, support, encourage, and
comfort those with autism.
In this case, it’s the one
whose hormones are right on schedule.

Like peas and carrots,
Myles and Ray sit side-by-side in art class.
She listens, he fidgets.

I oversee the peas and carrots.

This is what happened.

A pretty girl strolls past (at least so I thought)
Ray goes zero to sixty in the wink of an eye.
For reasons known only to God, He permits a seed of anxiety
to permeate Ray’s mind that quickly morphs a mild-mannered boy into a hyper,
nay, ultra-hyper supersonic superball.
This invasion is so great it causes Ray to bounce up and down (almost violently)
nonstop while seated.
One more layer has been added on as well: Ray’s ecstatic loud voice.
The child cannot be soothed, refocused, admonished or stilled.
Myles is understandably fearful.
There’s no time to think.
I’m always mindful never to react in the flesh, however,
something needs to be done and be done
now.

Myles, let’s get him out of here.
Time for a walk Ray.

All three of us exit the classroom as subtle as possible
which is difficult considering that Ray needs to be controlled and escorted
to the hallway lest he injures himself, us or others.

So off we go.

On the starboard side: Myles
In the middle: Ray
Holding the port side: Myself

Ray hops, bops, and bounces up and down the hall.
Myles – all of five-foot-two – Myles’ arms flail in the air as she holds onto Ray.
She’s doing all she can before her anxiety gets to the point of Ray’s.

His voice subsides by a few decibels.
Students in open door classrooms glance at the noise,
other teachers close their doors to stifle the…

Ray, calm down!
Stop jumping Ray!

and

Wo Nellie! Hold your horses, Ray!

As the three of us do our unintended
wacky Wizard of Oz walk.

Ray’s emotions gain momentum.

Myles, still looking towards me for guidance and answers
cannot hear my silent repeating prayers.

Dear Jesus. Pour Your heavenly peace upon Raymond.
Quiet his mind, body, and emotions.

Trusting the Holy Spirit’s guidance,
I halt the walk.

Ray’s horizontal movements stop, but not the vertical.
Very slowly and gently I move my face closer to his.
The bouncing reduces in height until we lock eyes.
Myles on mine, mine on Ray’s.
Purposefully, calmly, and softly I draw him nearer until
we click…physically, spiritually.

Forehead-to-forehead
Eye-to-eye
Holy Spirit-to-Ray’s spirit

We hold our gaze for only a few moments.
Silence runs deep as God uses me as His instrument.
I finally backed off.
Ray’s eyes are still fully glued on mine.

This child of God is now completely and utterly relaxed.

Myles lets go of his shoulder; I don’t.
I slightly touch his other shoulder to make him turn around.
We begin walking back towards the art classroom, however, there are three distinct differences: we have new names.

On the starboard side: Cooled
In the middle: Calmed
Holding the port side: Contented

Glancing over Ray’s shoulders, I hook eyes with Myles.
The quizzical look she gives me
beckons her unsaid question.

Mr. Terry, what just happened?

Myles, you’ve just witnessed the power of prayer through Jesus Christ.

The same today
as tomorrow
as was yesterday.