Kantegger

“When will you return?” This phrase stirred my soul each time I heard it.

During the balmy summer of my high school freshman year, I devoted my time to the Harmony Haven for Children in the city of Blossomdale alongside my friend. At that time, my intent was to bolster my curriculum vitae. Little did I know the spectrum of emotions this experience would awaken in me.

Most wards of the Haven grapple with significant hurdles daily: their ability to interact normally with others or to care for themselves is compromised. Our role as volunteers was to usher them into societal life as best we could through education and training. In the early days, I can still recall the drudgery and repetition of executing menial tasks, such as reorganizing books on the shelves, and repeating identical phrases. My friend and I yearned to break free from this purgatory.

On a Sunday afternoon during the fourth week, as I bid my customary farewell to every child in the room, a nine-year-old girl named Lily stared at me with her candid eyes and queried, “When will you return?” Her gentle words pierced my heart – to abandon these children so soon would inflict pain. I was filled with remorse for my self-centeredness.

The subsequent week, I returned solo, sans my friend. Lily, a child on the autism spectrum, became my primary concern. I assisted her in mastering self-care, communication, and expressing her needs and emotions. In aiding Lily with her self-care skills, I felt a profound sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. I dreamt of the day when Lily would be able to attend a mainstream school and perhaps even secure a spot at a university. Nevertheless, the reality of the situation was far more challenging. My disappointment mounted with each one-way conversation where I received no reciprocation from her. After demonstrating to Lily how to use a spoon for the thirty-sixth time, she still managed to spill her meal all over herself. Overwhelmed, I succumbed to tears that Sunday morning. I began to question the purpose of these efforts. Consequently, I ceased trying to engage with Lily, and spoon-fed her instead, no longer encouraging her independence. Much like my friend, who had discontinued his visits after a mere four weeks, my motivation waned.

However, I was confronted with those words again — “When will you return?” The words reverberated in my numb heart. Lily REQUIRES my assistance.

It’s incorrect to categorize all individuals with autism as possessing remarkable talents. I understood that Lily isn’t akin to Raymond, the “autistic savant”, in the movie “The Enlightened Raindrop.” Even though supporting Lily was a daunting task, I realized I shouldn’t surrender. Motivated, I reached out to a rehabilitation specialist, Dr. Eliot Wells, at the Serenity Health Institute of Blossomdale. Over several weeks, we communicated online, and he provided me with invaluable advice about rehabilitation. We agreed to collaborate on a project to better assist these children. I became a key organizer of this philanthropic initiative titled ‘Pathway to Tomorrow’. During this initiative, volunteers and professional rehabilitation doctors teamed up to educate the children on self-care skills and promote their interaction with others. From Monday to Friday, the children participated in hand exercises, read picture books, and practiced self-feeding under the guidance of volunteers and doctors in the rehabilitation room. We arranged outdoor games and sports every week; we honed the children’s social skills monthly; we visited supermarkets, amusement parks, museums, and aquariums to acclimatize them to everyday societal activities. Five months on, Lily can now feed herself. She’s also found a new pastime: utilizing chopsticks as drumsticks to tap rhythms on her desk.

Presently, whenever I confront obstacles in my life, studies, or work, I reminisce about Lily’s face and the question she posed to me at the end of every Sunday:

“When will you return?”

(This essay is written for the prompt: Discuss an accomplishment, event, or realization that sparked a period of personal growth and a new understanding of yourself or others.)