Friends, please forward this to anyone in media who can help. Or to anyone who may have information on the little boy's whereabouts or condition.
My heart is breaking for this boy's family. Let's all pray for his safe return. Forward and re-post in your blogs, if you have time. Thanks
B's Learning Log task for this week involves handwriting a poem he likes, illustrating it and writing down why he likes it.
Over dinner this evening, O and I asked him about what poem he plans to use for his Learning Log entry, and what he had learnt about poems in school this week.
"Oh, there are so many poems we've read in school," he chattered as he munched his food, and then he launched into a litany of titles of children's poems which all sounded nice, but were mostly unfamiliar to my Pinoy-educated ears.
"We also learned about alliteration," he added, as O and I exchanged raised eyebrows from across the table. ("Litrachun!" chimed E happily after his brother.) B then proceeded to educate us all with a simple yet comprehensive description of what alliteration is, that it involves using words that start with the same sound, one after the other, which is vastly different from rhyming. He gave a few examples for our amusement. As B paused in his explanation to take another bite, O stage-whispered that he had probably learnt about these things in high school already, and I nodded in agreement as I rolled my eyes.
"Also," B said, chewing again, "we learnt about onomatopoeia."
Complete silence around the table as we stared at B. Well, except for E who was, as usual, parroting whatever it was his Kuya has just said, but O and I were shocked into silence. Still eating, unmindful of the shocked looks of disbelief on his parents' faces, B continued, "Onomatopoeia is when you use words that sound like the sound they're describing, like tickle, or crash, or wibble-wobble, or crickle-crackle..." and then he and E started to have lots of fun making sounds and noises to illustrate exactly what onomatopoeia is, blissfully ignorant of the fact that he knows at age almost-eight what many others first learn at eighteen. Some of us (including yours truly) only learnt learn how to correctly SPELL the darn word way past adolescence.
"Knock-knock! Snap! Achoo!" Our two boys merrily onomatopoeia-ed away over the dinner table, each heartily croaking out an appreciative belly laugh at the other's contribution before chiming in with his own.
O just shook his head as he smiled, bemused at how advanced the UK's National Curriculum for primary schools is.
And as for me? Thud! went my jaw as it dropped onto the floor.
I've read about children with autism who display splinter skills or outstanding abilities in specific areas, but I haven't really focused much on those chapters of the books I've read, concentrating mostly on survival strategies, success stories, and how to understand and practically support children with autism. But lately, I've been led to wonder more and more if my own son might have some exceptional skills that might not be so common amongst "normal" children, which leads me to think I might have to educate myself on this some more.
Aside from his creative storytelling and bookwriting prowess, all on his own initiative and with absolutely no prodding from O or myself, B has fantastic visual and organisational memory, as if he has a very neat snack of folders and boxes in his mind, and he knows exactly how to store and label each shred of information into the right one. He learns and memorises lyrics of songs after hearing it only once! He can re-tell word for word a story he has read at least once or twice. He remembers road directions and map graphics precisely. He hasn't forgotten anything I have taught him in 7.5 years, well, except for house rules like "Tidy your room" or "Finish your food before you leave the table," but THAT's understandable.
Me, I just take everything in a blurred and haphazard way, shoving each memory, thought or experience in a general "inbox" till bedtime! But B, well, I think I need to come to grips with the fact that my son might really be different in a physiological way, that his brain is really wired differently from the rest of us, and not necessarily in a subnormal way, either.
On the 26th February, Mrs D, B's drama club teacher since 2005, took me aside after the after-school session and asked me, "Listen, Mrs Andres, have you heard from B's teachers about whether he may have some special abilities? I mean, is he super-intelligent or something?" I stared at her blankly and said, "Well, no, they say he's just average, just like other kids his age. And I'm quite happy with that. Why?"
And then she told me with excitement and seriousness in her voice, "Well, today, for improvisation and teamwork, I introduced a new and very complicated game called RESCUE ME. I had spent a lot of time before the session trying to figure out how to explain the mechanics to the children, as it's not just a complicated game but complicated to describe to anyone in the first place! I thought that I could count on the Year 6 children (ages 10-11) to catch on first and model it to the others, especially the Year 3 kids (ages 7-8) including B, who I thought would be quite slower to understand the complex instructions due to their being younger."
She paused for effect and said, "To my utter surprise, B was first one to actually get it! During the trial run, I was amazed at how he showed that he understood all the complicated rules perfectly, and knew how to strategise using those rules. Even the Year 6 kids didn't get it on the first try, and everybody else had trouble catching on. But B, well, he never got tagged, he never got 'captured' and he always knew exactly what to do... Three times, he really was leading, he beat everyone, even the Year 6's... It showed how focused he was on me as I explained the game initially, and it showed me his fantastic capacity for attention and quick understanding, even if it had been only explained to him once. And I tell you, I think it's amazing."
I congratulated B and asked him, on the drive home, to explain the game to me, but I couldn't understand it, for the life of me.
Another time last week, he came home spouting new knowledge about rocks and soils. Geology was their new science lesson in "curriculum choice" studies, apparently. He quizzed me on the three general types of rocks (igneous, sedimentary and metamorphic) and then left me agape by telling me each sub-type under those three! He wasn't just reciting from memory but actually linking and cross-referencing one with another. He immediately wrote and drew a graphic "poster" about his favourite rocks and soils, their characteristics, an example of each, common uses, etc. When he showed it to me afterwards, I said, "Wow, B, I didn't even KNOW this when I was your age! And here you are, making a poster about it and teaching me about it. You're a very good and enthusiastic teacher!" I told O about it after he came home from work, and he couldn't make out how B was able to do that, as well.
Last Friday, he came home telling me that they had spent time praying the Stations of the Cross in church that day, and that someone had explained all the stations to them in the school hall later on. He said, "Nanay, there are 16 stations of the cross, did you know that?" And when O came home from work, he told him the same thing. When O said he thought there were only 12 (my hubby does complain of poor memory, bless him), B responded by reciting ALL SIXTEEN stations in order, and with descriptions! He asked us for some cardboard boxes which he then cut out into 16 squares, and he made his own stations of the cross in his little corner of the living room, complete with labels and drawings. He had just learned it in school that day, and he had it all memorised by hometime!
Oh, my dear B, what goes on in that curious and bright little mind of yours? How I wish I could get inside it and see, just for a while, how you think. It boggles me to think how you keep outdoing yourself each day, amazing us with your abilities. You may be more gifted than any of us yet realise or imagine, but truly, what I want you to know is that, special gifts or no, YOU and E are the most precious gifts your Tatay and I have ever received from God. You are the gift, B, and we love and accept you for who you are and who you are yet to become.
"Nanay," B jumped on my bed and announced very early this morning, "I think I know what AM and PM mean."
B was home from school today because he had been sick yesterday, and I wanted to keep him under observation for 24 hours and make sure he doesn't throw up anymore. He was lethargic and had no appetite at all last night, but thank God, he seemed perfectly fine this morning, and was his usual bubbly, curious self.
"AM," he continued, "stands for at morning, and PM means past morning!!!" He then looked at me triumphantly.
I laughed with astonished delight and amusement at his logic and creativity. It actually does make sense, right? And he obviously came up with that answer spontaneously, as a result of his own reflections. TeacherNanay-mode kicked in, however, and I knew I had to step in and tell him the truth. But still, I couldn't help but hug him as I explained the concept of the prime meridian line, Greenwich Mean Time, and the real meaning of AM (ante-meridian) and PM (post-meridian).
After I gave him my brief explanation, though, I must confess that I like B's interpretation much, much better! And I told him just that!
"You know, Nanay," said B to me knowingly over dinner last night, ending with a dramatic flourish, "tomorrow is the last day of 2007!""Uh-huh," I smiled through my mouthful of left-over Christmas pasta, "and then, what's the day after that?"
"The first day of 2008!!!!" he exclaimed triumphantly.
After a brief, scholarly, somewhat one-sided discussion (mostly with B on the talking end) on what a year means in astronomy, how long it takes for each of the planets to circle the sun and spin itself round, what the new solar system now looks like, the new dwarf planets Eris and Ceres, and so forth, I managed to steer the conversation back to more earth-related matters, and talk about the year ahead. Now it was my turn to start with a "you know" statement.
"You know, B," I said. "I bet God has a terrific plan for us in 2008. Just like the books that we've read and the stories you've written, there's a fantastic ending He's planned for us, a great plot in store for all His children that only He knows. It's like a Great Big Secret that only He knows, and we discover more and more of what He's written in our story each day. He's the Writer, the Author of the story of our lives, and now He wants us to turn to page 2008 on New Year's Day with excitement and anticipation!"
"And," B added in agreement, "God is also the Narrator of our story, Nanay, just like in that Winnie the Pooh movie where Tigger and Pooh could talk to the Narrator and he talks back? And the Narrator could narrate them all out of sticky situations, like when Tigger was stuck up in a tree and couldn't bounce down, and the Narrator narrated him down safely by tilting the page!"
"That's exactly right, B," I replied, seizing the opportunity for a teaching moment. "And we do that all the time, too! We talk to the Narrator and Author of our story all the time and when we're still and we listen very carefully, we can hear Him narrating us through each page. When we're lost or stuck, He can narrate us out of anything! Do you know another name for talking to the Narrator, B?"
"What?" asked B with open curiosity.
So I said in mock horror, "What? You don't know? But you do it every night! I bet you know already." I then pretended to chew my dinner very carefully, taking my time, sipping my water.
It was easy to see that he was hooked on the topic and couldn't take the suspense any more without needing to make a dash for the bathroom. So I stopped teasing him, looked him in the eye and whispered, "Prayer, B. Whenever we pray, all we are really doing is talking to God as our Narrator and Author."
"Oh, yeah," said B with dawning realisation. "I'm excited to turn the page and see what He's written for us in 2008, Nanay. I can't wait!"
"Me, too, B!" I answered, and meant it with my whole heart.
Found this today on B's study table, written in purple marker on half a sheet of toilet paper:
"Dear Santa,
I like presents. Please give me a toy aeroplane, a battery operated train set, a box of toy cars and a wooden train set on Christmas.
Love from B."
Any takers, Ninongs and Ninangs?
Hehehe, just kidding :) While others his age have been overheard talking about who to ask out to go to the Christmas disco or are nagging their parents about the latest video games and equipment, our dear B, at 7, is still a little child, an uncomplicated boy who truly believes in the simple magic of Christmas.
For this, I am indescribably grateful.
Stay as sweet and as simple as you are, B. Hang on to your childhood.
For as long as you possibly can.
Please?
1. garden
2. smart
3. starlight
4. parliament ( I am NOT making this up!)
5. sparkle
6. particular
7. narrator
8. molar
9. calendar
10. popular
11. similar
12. cardinal
Some of these words I only learned in high school! What schools teach seven-year-olds nowadays!
