I will tell you about my friend Bobby who is now eleven years old and is autistic.
When we were little, he and I met on a playground. He loved playing in the sandbox and always filled the buckets to the top with sand. This is how he arranged a large castle. Apparently he liked it a lot because he spent a lot of time there. When I went to meet him, he didn’t greet me, didn’t even look at me. His mom told me he doesn’t talk, but if I want I can join his game. At first, he wouldn’t give me a shovel or a bucket, but over time he got used to me being around him and one day he gave me his blue shovel.
Once, while we were playing, we heard a plane overhead. Bobby covered his ears and started screaming. His mother came to us and calmed him down. She told me he didn’t like loud noises and got upset when he was surprised.
At one of our playdates, he brought a folder. I was impressed because it had many pictures that showed different actions, objects and games. Bobby took and pulled out one that depicted a sandbox game and gave it to me. So I understood what he wanted us to do and we went to build sand towers.
For anything he wanted, he would hand his mother or me a picture and get it. He showed me that he wanted to swing. I took Bobby to the swings and helped him onto one of them. In return, he handed me a picture of a hug. This made me very happy because he didn’t let everyone hug him.
Now, he is in fourth grade, he can say his name and what he wants. Uses fewer and fewer pictures. He has a new friend.
Thanks to my friend Bobby, I realized how important words are to our lives, because with them we can express our emotions, our feelings, be understood, satisfied and happy.
Author: Viktoria Morfova, 12 years old from the city of Varna