For This One

May the heart and will of everything good, on earth and in heaven, be set on making things right for this one. 

Music by Scott Holmes - A Wee Tipple 
Non Copyright Music

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:05

He kept himself small and silent, head down, avoiding all eye contact, hating any attention. He was desperate to blend in, but it was quite evident he did not belong here. Why was he here? I soon discovered that, though no crime was committed, there was just no other place for him to go. Multiple attempts were often made by those around him, but he refused to answer with anything more than a yes or a no, if even that. And the more anyone commented on his expressionless face in an attempt to get some kind of response from him, the further he withdrew. And as life would have it, he was assigned me, and I made sure that never changed, even when I had to get fierce about it. Because of his aversion to conversations, I was determined to find some other method of connection. No good conversation or authentic connection comes by force. I opened a drawer and told him to prepare himself for a surprise. I didn't want to scare him, but this would include an element of surprise. Then handed him the small wooden box. Hey man, I've been working so hard all day to figure out how to open this. Do you think you can help me with this box? He looked up at me, noticing my smile and the mischievous tone of my voice. He knew something was going to happen, then placed his fingers on the small handle that, unknown to him, was strategically placed and easily began sliding open one side of that box. But before he realized what was happening, up out of that box appeared a fake rubber mouse, its whiskers making immediate contact with his fingers. He jumped and then laughed. I asked if he wanted to help trick others. He nodded his head eagerly and off we went, bringing about a lot of screams and laughter in the building, and even some disapproving looks from those in charge. But who cares, right? There was a light in his eyes, and he was having so much fun he did not notice being the center of attention. And I love the way his smile lit up his face. And even so I was careful not to notice anything about him in front of him, careful not to comment on his smile, not to make eye contact too long. In fact, I often found something to look at or to do when speaking to him. It allowed him to watch my face, my body language, essentially letting him read the room without feeling watched, giving him the time to use the tools that helps one decide if the person standing in front of them will hurt them or if he can trust. We played a lot of card games together. There were two he especially liked. We began keeping track and had tournaments, betting each other who would win. He won a lot. Then during a visit from some previous caretaker, I was informed in front of him that he was known to cheat and was reprimanded for it. The shame of it all being told on by a former caretaker in front of me, and the tone it was told in, I was deeply hurt for him. And so we added a rule to the games we played. You had to cheat to play by the rules, and getting caught ended in shouts and laughter and high fives. I noticed he was particularly good at finding patterns and thinking ahead. And when I began smack talking, he looked at me with surprise, a grin spreading across his face, then eagerly followed my lead, giving back whatever I dished out. And suddenly the quiet one before me began running his mouth, much to my delight. Weeks turned into months, topics that were tied to his past, anything that would mean he needed to feel or discuss his experiences were extremely difficult for him. The pain was just too much, and he had been withdrawn for quite some time. No one had ever taken the time to help him put words to his own experiences as he was growing up. It was all locked inside of him. Sometimes when we met, I would introduce a new concept or topic, such as an emotion, but a brief minute or two was about all he could take. I learned it was better to try talking while we played. Some days two minutes would stretch into five and then ten, and we keep playing. And then there came a day where I knew it was time, time to open the door a little wider and invite him to share what hurts so much. Hey man, I know this is very hard for you to talk about things, and I really wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think it was really important. I've a feeling you've had some very hard things happen to you. Is that right? He nodded, glancing at me for a second. And I know it hurts to talk about those things, and I want you to know I'm never gonna force you. But if you haven't told anyone about what happened, that means you're walking through this world by yourself, carrying all of that stuff. And man, I care about you so much. I really don't want that for you. I would like at the very least, that you would know for the rest of your life that someone else knows what happened to you, so you don't need to carry it alone. Then you might feel a little less alone. If you're willing, and if you want to try with me, can we try talking about it? After a bit he nodded his head, then said I really don't know how. Well, do you think it would be easier just to tell me what happened? Or would you rather have me ask questions? Ask questions, he said quietly. And so, one by one, I asked the questions ever so gently, asking questions I knew would help get to the center of what he lived through. It was devastating. Horrific, absolutely heartbreaking on many levels. Tears streamed down both of our faces, as he hesitantly but ever so bravely allowed me to walk back into time and see what had happened. Everything made sense, trying to stay unseen. Attention puts you at great risk. And why talk? How can one ever talk about it all? And no one ever played by the roles in his world. Rules were broken all the time. Rules around love, respect, and safety, roles around protecting the young and doing what's right for them, roles about belonging and family and trust. About a year later he was scheduled to be released, and I had accepted a job elsewhere, and had already begun training, prepared to leave as soon as he left, then received the news that his release was delayed. There was just no way I could leave him there while I moved on. I turned down the job and stayed. When the day arrived, I have to admit, it was so hard to see this one go, but I wanted better for him. Much has happened since then, but this past Mother's Day I received a text from him that went straight to the heart. And today I made the trek I take every so often to go see him and celebrated his birthday and shared the best cheesecake ever. If there is any goodness in this life, if there is any justice, any writings of wrongs in this world, please, please may it be for this one.