In the late 90's, I was working in a completely different field and had my first experience working with someone who struggled with mental health issues...in a word...Autism. I encouraged my place of business to hire a person from a non-profit mental health agency and **Michael came to work for us. His caseworker explained that he was uncomfortable looking people in the eyes, did not like human contact and would most likely not connect with anyone....and it was decided that I would keep my fingers on the pulse of his experience in the workplace.
In keeping with my responsibilities, I came through the back...where he was working three days a week...to make a brief. but focused, stop to check in with him. I was careful where I stood, made no sudden movements and never forced him to look me in the face...but...being the direct eye contact person that I am...I always looked at the side of his face...as he was always turned to the side, when someone spoke to him.
As time progressed, I would ask him on Wednesday what flavor doughnut he liked, so that it would be included in my Friday "thank you" for the staff. He liked the cinnamon twist. Every Friday, I had it placed in the center of the baker's dozen with a small card that said "Michael's...don't touch!". Within two months, it became a kind, gentle teasing opportunity that the staff took full advantage of..."Michael gets his special doughnut on Friday from Mickie..." until one Wednesday he walked up to me...stood in profile next to me and said, "Friday...Friday...it's my special doughnut day...I like cinnamon twist doughnut." "Is there any other kind you would like this Friday?" "No...no...just a cinnamon twist...just a cinnamon twist." And, so...there it was on Friday...with his card...which I learned he had started saving each week...until he had a stack of cards in his pocket that he carried religiously.
The end of summer was approaching and so was his "internship" with us. "What are you going to do when you don't work here anymore?" "I don't know," he said in profile. "I want to go to school." "Really? What kind of school." "The kind you would go to..." I had dropped out of college a long time before to....well...work all the time. But, in my heart, I envied people who had a bachelor's...even though I was making more money than most college grads...and...as if the universe had heard the pure honesty of our conversation...two weeks later, I came across an essay contest to nominate someone for a small college scholarship. I am a writer at heart and I was moved...so, I nominated Michael....here is what I wrote in my essay summary paragraph:
"I would like to say that I have been a positive force in his life; but, truthfully, he has been the positive force mine. He has reminded me what it means to love the work you do...to appreciate, even the small daily tasks that we often roll our eyes about and to take pride in everything. Michael is a shining example of who we all should be...he is never late...he finishes what he starts...he is polite and respectful...he takes pride in his work...he remains poised in the most difficult situations and he appreciates the little things. In his presence, I am embarrassed at what I take for granted in life, and I only hope that one day I will be able to say that I have achieved what he has achieved. It is for this reason that I ask that you grant his wish to attend "the kind of school that you would go to...." He won the scholarship....
The day after the awards banquet, Michael and his mother came into the workplace. "Michael has something he would like to say to you." He walked up to me...arm outstretched..."This angel is yours...you wear on your shirt...it's from me...I picked it out....you helped me go to school...I know it was you...this angel will watch you...make sure you're ok...I won't have your doughnuts anymore...I'm going to school...thank you...can I hug you?" As I struggled to look him in the eyes...and worried about my personal space that I didn't let anyone into...he stepped forward...and put his arms around me..."This is just for you...no one else...no one else can touch this." I was shaking to my core....
Michael....I still have that angel in my nightstand...and when I feel really alone I hold it in my hand and thank you out loud for what you gave me...what I have struggled with my entire life...that human connection...
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