Poems and Prayers and Patriarchal Blessings

Like many people, I have a son with autism. As I look back on it, my years of growing up prepared me for Daniel. Even though we were separated from the special needs children in school, The boy who lived next door had autism. We didn't know it at the time but, in retrospect, he was a lot like my Daniel. His father liked to go to the stock car races and he often took me with him. I once asked him why he never brought along his son. Mr Trombitis just shrugged and said that Tony couldn't stand the noise.

One of the first things you have to learn when you find out that you have a child with autism is that the sooner you stop being angry with God, the better off every one is. The second thing you need to learn is that you have to say goodbye to the child you thought you had and learn to love the child you have. Looking back now, I'm not entirely sure that Mr. Trombitis ever learned either of those lessons.

When I was a teenager, the young men and young women leaders in our ward decided that we were going to throw a Christmas party for the students at the State School. They also decided that I was to play the part of Santa Clause at this party. I protested, pointing out that Santa Claus was a fat JOLLY man and I only filled one of those criteria. It did no good. Young Men and Young Women leaders have a special talent for ignoring the pleas of their charges when it's in that kid's best interest.

When the time came at the party, I came out of my hiding space, dressed in my Santa Suit. I had prepared myself to play Santa to a bunch of cute little kids. I was surprised to learn that there were no children; these were all adults, some as old as fifty, screaming "Santa Claus!" like I was some kind of a rock star and all pressing forward to line up tell me what they wanted for Christmas.

I was humiliated. Grown men and women were sitting on my lap. I looked over at the young men in my group and I could only imagine the teasing I would have to endure on the ride home. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I would have shown them no mercy and I knew I could expect none in return.

While I burned with humiliation, a very shy young man in his mid-twenties came up and took a seat on my knee. When I prompted him to tell me what he wanted for Christmas, he just kept his head down. I prodded him with a few suggestions; to each of them, he silently shook his head. I heard one of my friends snicker at me. This was gettng out of hand. I needed to get that young man off my lap but there is a protocol and the protocol says that nobody leaves until Santa knows what you want for Christmas. My immaturity took over and in a very un-Santa-like voice, I said to the young man, "Look...just tell me what you want and get off me"

He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "I want my parents to come and see me".

When I prayed that night, I asked Heavenly Father to never let me have a child such as that young man. I explained that I was unequal to the task of parenting such a child. I forgot that prayer for a little over a decade. Then one day, I found myself in the office of a child psychiatrist, my wife's hand gripped tightly in mine. The doctor was explaining to my wife and I that our youngest child, Daniel, was severly autistic. "He will never learn to read or write or even talk", she said. "He will always be a burden and you need to seriously consider placing him in an institution both for Daniel's sake and your own...and also for the sake of your 'normal' children"

It took me just over a year to learn lesson one. Why God would mock me by giving me the very thing I had plead for him to spare me was beyond my understanding. I held onto my testimony by the thinnest of threads.

Another thing you learn when you have a child with autism is that people will say really stupid things to you and offer all kinds of crazy cures.

"I just don't see how you and your wife take it. If it were me, I couldn't stand the strain"

...I looked at this person and smiled but I wanted to shake them and scream, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? There is no other option but to 'take it'. If you have any suggestions, I'm wide open!"

Other people brought miracle cures that seemed like they were straight off of some travelling medicine man's wild west wagon.

I learned to smile at these people while thinking, "Yeah, I'd like to see what would happen to you if you ever DID manage to get a couple of spoons of cayenne pepper down Daniel's throat".

...or another, "I bet if I hooked YOU up to a 12 volt battery, it would change your personality as well"

One suggestion, however, hit home. "Have you considered giving him a blessing?" I had to admit to myself that giving Daniel a blessing scared me beyond reasoning. I knew it was an irrational fear but, all my life I had held a testimony of The Gospel and the power of The Priesthood. My testimony was already fragile enough. If I blessed my son and he wasn't cured. I felt certain it would shatter and I would be lost forever.

My father was the person who made the suggestion. Although I had never confided in him about the state of my own spiritual health, I suppose he sensed it and he began to gently persuade me to bless my son. One of the things he did was to read to me the story in the scriptures of a man, not unlike myself who brought a son, very much like my son to The Savior to be healed. The Savior said to him that his son could be healed if he believed and said, "All things are possible to him that believeth". The man gave Christ an answer that I had never understood up to that point, "Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief"

I realized that this man was just like me. He believed but he needed a bit of help to completely place his trust in his beliefs. It dawned on me then that faith was simply an outer manifestation of belief. You can believe but it is only when you do something with that belief that you have faith.

I read further in the story where the apostles questioned Christ as to why they were unable to heal the boy. The Savior answered them, "This kind cometh not out save by fasting and prayer"

At our request, several of the wards in the stake fasted and prayed for our son. My father and I and several of the men in our stake laid our hands upon Daniel and gave him a blessing.

Almost immediately, things began to get better. After many frustrating searches that had ended in blind alleys, we were finally able to find a doctor to work with our son. We found out later that he was one of the worlds foremost authorities on child autism.

Daniel began to speak.

When he spoke, a flood of words came from Daniel. He would discuss conversations that we had years before in his presence. One of the most annoying things he did, however, was to constantly insist that he was a wolf. He perseverated upon wolves to the point of driving his mother and I to distraction. Thankfully, he outgrew this obsession and moved on to others.

His doctors were excited because, according to them, Daniel was so severly autistic that, by all rights, he should be in a corner somewhere, non-verbal, rocking himself. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, Daniel had managed to punch a hole though his autism and enter this world. They credited this miracle to Daniel's force of will. (But you and I, we know differently). The doctors began to see Daniel several times a week. They were learning new things from Daniel. Here was someone that was severly autistic who could explain to them a bit of what was going on in his world.

There was a side affect to all of this, however. Daniel lived in constant fear that the autism which he held back would again overtake him. He developed auditory and visual psychosis. My little boy with the face of an angel both saw and heard frightful monsters that would torment and torture him. He drew pictures of these horrible things that were his waking nightmare and would plead with his mother and I to protect him. The doctors prescribed very strong medications that chased the monsters away.

The medicine was much too strong for Daniel's little body, however, and many times he would develop a palsey-like syndrome called Tardive Dyskenisia. If we did not take Daniel off of his medication and let his body cleanse itself, the shaking would become permanent and his liver would be damaged beyond repair. But if we took him off, the monsters would come back.

Imagine yourself separated from your child by an unbreachable gulf. You can see him on the far shore and he is being tormented and tortured by hideous creatures. You can see him suffer but you are unable to do anything to stop it. What can you do? There are no books at Barnes and Noble that will tell you whether you should let your child suffer in the body for his mind's sake or if it's better to let him suffer in the mind for his body's sake.

You're completely alone.

In an effort to escape his tormentors, Daniel became a danger to himself. We had to place him in a hospital where he could be constantly monitored. My heart would break every night when I went to visit my son. When it came time to leave, he would cling to my leg and would plead with me to take him home again...and he would promise "to be a good boy". I began to understand the parents of the young man who had sat on my lap many years earlier. After all; there is just so much you can take.

My anger at Heavenly Father returned. I could not sleep or work or do anything but fret and fester about my son helpless in a hospital. I was so distracted at work that my employer told me to take a few days off. As I left the building, I noticed a little park nearby. It was overgrown and hardly ever used. I knew it would be a private place and I knew that the prayer I had within me was not a silent prayer. I walked into the park and began to pray in a way I never had before.

I railed in anger. I told Heavenly Father that he was not a merciful God. I complained that He had given me the very thing I had begged Him to spare me. I told Him that if He had an ounce of mercy, He would either end Daniel's life or mine because I could no longer stand by and watch my son suffer so.

What happened next, I count as one of the truly great miracles in my life. I literally felt my Heavenly Father's arms enfold me. The pain and bitterness that was so exquisite and intense just a moment before became a distant memory. The burden that I had carried in to that park was lifted from my shoulders and I felt my Heavenly Father's words enter my heart, "I know what you're going through...I too, had to watch a Son suffer once"

All my life I had been taught and had learned to consider what The Savior went through as he knelt in the Garden of Gethsemane and took upon himself my sins. I had never considered what it must have been like for Heavenly Father to stand aside and watch his Only Begotten Son suffer for the sins of the world and be powerless to stop that suffering lest he frustrate the Plan of Salvation.

In an instant, my feelings went from a bitter and angry, "Why me?" to a thankful and humble, "Why me?"

We got through that day and others like it. I learned to lean more heavily upon my Father in Heaven. Eventually, we felt that we wanted to get Daniel his Patriarchal Blessing. We talked it over with the bishop and the patriarch and both agreed. The patriarch asked for a week so that he could fast and prepare before giving the blessing.

It was a phenomenal blessing, one that told Daniel and us of his valiant service in the pre-mortal life. The patriarch told us that Daniel was one of the spirits who lead the battle against Satan and was instrumental in casting him from heaven. The patriarch told us that Daniel had won his exhaltation in Heaven but had chosen to come to earth anyway. We were told that Heavenly Father placed Daniel's austism upon him as a shield so that he would be certain to return.

The blessing went on and on about many extraordinary things and I began to be a bit of a doubting Thomas. I thought, "sure...throw the parents a bone...tell them how great their son is so they'll feel better about the whole thing"

But God has a way of winking at us from time to time; to let us know that what might be shrugged off as a mere coincindence really is a miracle or to let us know that a patriarchal blessing truly came from Him.

When the patriarch gave Daniel his lineage, it was into the Tribe of Benjamin. I considered it very strange because his mother and I and everyone I knew were of the tribe of Ephraim. The patriarch proclaimed that all the blessings of the Tribe of Benjamin were now upon Daniel.

I got curious about just what those blessings were and so I turned to the Book of Genesis and read Israel's blessings to his sons; and there was Heavenly Father winking at me.

I was overcome. It was years since Daniel had forgotten his first obsession and had moved on to others. The patriarch really had no way of knowing and yet there were Jacob's words to Benjamin,

"Benjamin shall ravin as a wolf"

An Answer to a Prayer.

by

Tom Boyce

You bow your head and bend your knee

with anguish in your soul

and pour your heart out for your son

to heal and make him whole

You ask for me to take away

your heartache and your fear

You tell me that you cannot watch

the pain he has to bear

So many things you ask of me

so many more you need

you're not yet as the mighty oak

you're like a tender reed

Be still, and know that I am God

Thy son belongs to me

The reasons for the pains he bears

is wisdom you can't see

For strength can only come through pain

remember, little one

that once, I too stood by and watched,

the suffering of a Son.