A Letter to a Stranger

Dear Nameless Warrior Mother,

When I first saw your little boy wandering the children's section of Barnes and Noble, I knew. I knew when he walked over to the table where my children sat looking at books and giggled at them like he held a secret joke behind his dark eyes framed by thick glasses. I knew when he wandered away again, giggling at his secret joke. I knew that you and I belong to the same club.

We are the mother's of those special and oh-so misunderstood children. We are the brave, the few, the proud.

As I was preparing to leave the store with my family and I heard the howling screams coming from the back of the store, I instinctively knew where they were coming from. And when I saw you firmly, yet with a certain calm, directing your little boy, yelling and fighting you all the way, out the front doors and to the parking lot, I wanted to rush to your side and offer my help. I could see you trying to hold it together with the composure of a loving mother whose only desire is to see her misunderstood child welcomed in this narrow-minded world of backward second glances.

I've been down your road before. I've walked those exact same steps too many times. I've performed the delicate and tenuous dance of mothering the special-needs child many times. And I know that I will keep dancing the dance. And you will keep dancing the dance. I just wanted to tell you that you do not dance alone. I understood your child. I understood you.

May you be blessed with courage and strength to continue, wherever you are.