Charlotte writes:
“When I first met Sara at the age of 5 years,
she was like a wild animal unleashed on the world, wearing a huge plaid black/yellow
flannel shirt layered over the top of other clothing in the heat of summer.
Her physical appearance and emotional problems were obvious - no attention
span and obsessive/compulsive behaviors that seemed impossible to overcome.
But, after a few days it became apparent that there was a higher intelligence
than stated in her evaluations, an intelligence that was not easily recognizable
in the span of a brief encounter.
“Although she seemed to have little
reasoning skills, she could manipulate knobs and buttons, and seemed to do
so with an understanding of the cause/effect relationship. She had a small
indestructible Fisher Price phonograph record player that Sandy had brought
with her to occupy Sara’s time and she played the same record over and over
until a reward like ice-cream pulled her away (she got lots of ice-cream!).
Her verbal skills were almost non-existent, however she could repeat phrases
over and over several hundred times. Sara referred to herself in the third
person when she did attempt to communicate and was most upset over spilling
a drink on her flannel shirt. She let me have the shirt to be washed, and
after talking to Sandy about it, it didn’t go home with her since this was
the final day of work for Sandy, and Sandy was pleased that she had taken
off the shirt as she was so attached to it that it would be easier on Sara
to accidentally leave it then to have to give it up on her own or have it
wrestled from her.
“At times Sara was violent and destructive,
but with no obvious malice intended - she did not seem to understand that
hitting someone hurt them. She showed no signs of pain, cold, heat or discomfort.
Sara was very self-centered, and although she noticed the environment she
seemed to be the only one in it. She showed no emotion unless you counted
the occasional maniacal outbursts of laughter. She shied away from all attempt
at affection.
“Even with all her problems, Sara had
a ‘light’ about her that hinted at great potential. She was like a little
vacuum sucking in all that was new. She memorized phrases that interested
her, and in only a few weeks her verbal skills had improved. It was as if
the words were there and she was struggling to put them to use. I knew in
my heart this child would someday excel at something.”
My Mom’s first impressions:
“I thought of Sara as a severely wounded animal. She ran from place to
place pushing buttons on TV’s and VCR’s with a wild look on her tiny, odd-shaped
face. Sandy would remove her from one object and she would run to another
uttering unintelligible sounds. Then she would run to the front door, or
gaze out the window, in her own world rocking back and forth, no longer interacting
with our world, the occasional hysterical laughter. She had an overwhelming
need for pain. She inflicted it on herself in any way she could: she bent
her little fingers back until they touched the top of her hands. We thought
they would break off.
“I finally managed to get her in my lap and tried talking to her
gently. Her response was to pat my face with both hands, first gently then
harder and harder. I thought to myself: this child may be beyond help.
“I watched a few days later as she was in a total screaming rage
and Sandy picked her up, sat down on the couch with this kicking, screaming
wild child and held her until she couldn’t scream anymore. Sara was exhausted,
she laid her head back and slept with her eyes open. I witnessed this scene
many times. I noticed each time Sandy was perfectly calm and consistent far
beyond what I could have been. I also observed from the first day that Sara
was aware of what pushed Bob’s buttons. The things that annoyed him the
most were behaviors she reserved for visits to our house. It would be nearly
six years before Sara could tell us why she behaved the way she did towards
Bob. Bob also realized that Sara saved these special behaviors for him,
so he chose to ignore her completely. He would even leave the room when she
came in the house. After several visits, she came in one day and Bob’s little
tattoo caught her eye. She finally approached him and put her finger on it
and looked at him. He said “Tattoo”. Sara repeated “tattoo tattoo”. The next
time, she came in and went straight to him, pulled up his sleeve, and with
a strange, almost artificial grin, put her finger on the tattoo and repeated
“tattoo”.
“That was the beginning of her acceptance of Bob. For months she
did her best to aggravate him, but it slowly became less and less. After
her first few visits, when Sara came into the house I told her I wanted a
hug, I hugged her, and she put one arm around me with my help. I told her
I wanted a hug with two arms and when she put her other arm around me it
brought tears to my eyes as it does right now as I write this. I’ve had hundreds
of hugs since the first one and still occasionally have to ask for two arms.”
Bob writes:
“By her actions and the expressions on her face I thought her to be severely
mentally retarded, dangerous to herself and others, beyond help. My thoughts
were that Sandy should send her back or on to someone else right away, possibly
to professional people in an institution. As time went on my fears were re-inforced
by Sara’s actions. Sandy had to watch her constantly to keep her from hurting
herself by causing herself nosebleeds, digging at her eyes, slamming her
hands in doors, throwing herself off steps. Her fits of screaming rage were
so intolerable I would sometimes get up and leave the house.”
