Today in church, we had regional conference, where we watched talks from some of our leaders on a big screen in the chapel. The lights were turned off so that the congregation could see the screen well.
A few minutes into the meeting, a teenage boy with a huge teddy bear slowly walked up to the front of the chapel. Looking at the light fixtures on the ceiling, you could see that he was thinking about them. He found the light switches on the wall next to the sacrament table, and switched all the lights back on, making the speakers on the screen hard to see. It was clear that this boy had autism or a similar disability. In his mind, it was dark and didn't make a bit of sense to have the lights off, so he went up to fix things.
As a mom of two kids with special needs, I was moved by the way this boy's mother handled the situation. She walked calmly to the front of the chapel (knowing full well that all 500 people were probably watching her,) turned the lights back off, as expected, then, instead of rushing him off the stand to take the attention off of her, she took a minute to teach him. She turned him so that he could see the screen and explained to him how we can see it much better when the lights are off. I was so touched by her gentleness with him. She seemed completely at ease.
About an hour later, he went up and did the same thing (he had either forgotten what she had told him, or maybe he didn't care, he just wanted the lights on, dang it!) When he saw his mom walking up toward the front again, he sat down on the floor behind the sacrament table. Instead of trying to physically remove him, (like I do when our girls plop down on the floor in the wrong places,) she just sat down right next to him and watched the rest of the conference on the floor with him.
Probably easier to do than to cause a big scene. But isn't this what Jesus would have done?
I wanted to walk up to this mom after the meeting to thank her for teaching me and filling my spiritual tank a little bit more today. But I was too busy keeping Hazel from darting out of the chapel. No time for chit-chat when you have a runner with you.
Something that I've pondered today: We learn how to have charity by not only reading about how Jesus interacted with difficult people, but by watching the people around us. Are my kids learning how to have charity by watching me? I try to show them by example how to do this with strangers or neighbors, but what about those every-day situations that come up in the family...am I doing what Jesus would do, or saying what he would say all of the time? Nope....I've got a long, long way to go with this.
I had a hard time listening intently to the talks that were given at regional conference today. They were amazing, of course. But with the wiggle monsters around me on our bench, I'm grateful today for the lesson that I learned from this sweet boy and his mom. I needed it so much and feel like it was meant just for me.
A few minutes into the meeting, a teenage boy with a huge teddy bear slowly walked up to the front of the chapel. Looking at the light fixtures on the ceiling, you could see that he was thinking about them. He found the light switches on the wall next to the sacrament table, and switched all the lights back on, making the speakers on the screen hard to see. It was clear that this boy had autism or a similar disability. In his mind, it was dark and didn't make a bit of sense to have the lights off, so he went up to fix things.
As a mom of two kids with special needs, I was moved by the way this boy's mother handled the situation. She walked calmly to the front of the chapel (knowing full well that all 500 people were probably watching her,) turned the lights back off, as expected, then, instead of rushing him off the stand to take the attention off of her, she took a minute to teach him. She turned him so that he could see the screen and explained to him how we can see it much better when the lights are off. I was so touched by her gentleness with him. She seemed completely at ease.
About an hour later, he went up and did the same thing (he had either forgotten what she had told him, or maybe he didn't care, he just wanted the lights on, dang it!) When he saw his mom walking up toward the front again, he sat down on the floor behind the sacrament table. Instead of trying to physically remove him, (like I do when our girls plop down on the floor in the wrong places,) she just sat down right next to him and watched the rest of the conference on the floor with him.
Probably easier to do than to cause a big scene. But isn't this what Jesus would have done?
I wanted to walk up to this mom after the meeting to thank her for teaching me and filling my spiritual tank a little bit more today. But I was too busy keeping Hazel from darting out of the chapel. No time for chit-chat when you have a runner with you.
Something that I've pondered today: We learn how to have charity by not only reading about how Jesus interacted with difficult people, but by watching the people around us. Are my kids learning how to have charity by watching me? I try to show them by example how to do this with strangers or neighbors, but what about those every-day situations that come up in the family...am I doing what Jesus would do, or saying what he would say all of the time? Nope....I've got a long, long way to go with this.
I had a hard time listening intently to the talks that were given at regional conference today. They were amazing, of course. But with the wiggle monsters around me on our bench, I'm grateful today for the lesson that I learned from this sweet boy and his mom. I needed it so much and feel like it was meant just for me.
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