Those were her words, not my own. I have a string attached, she wrote to me. Her words, quite poignant and filled with sincerity, turned on a faucet of the tears that leak so often these days. A friend, an art teacher, a special needs mama herself, quite gets me and I felt the tug of connection long before my Amos. Somehow our paths would cross in a meaningful way I had though, yet I could have had no idea.
This is the person that has words written on the wall of her studio that read something like this, “Never stay in the lines…scream at the top of your lungs…listen to your heart…find friends…notice everything.” Of course this amazing soul would have life’s best instructions for the children that are blessed by her very persona. I am blessed by her very nature of life.
He is quite a remarkable boy though not an amazing artist. He will likely never win awards for perfection in technique but he has a big heart and his pudding style, as she calls it, is perfectly wonderful because it is what makes him beautiful. I am thankful for the string she has attached to him or him to her and them to me. They are both, quite remarkable.