"There is one who speaks rashly like the thrusts of a sword, But the tongue of the wise brings healing." –Proverbs 12:18 NASB

"Like the thrusts of a sword..." Such are the kind of words that were hurled at a little 5-year-old named Aidan just last week at a supermarket in Salem, Oregon.

They were especially hurtful to Aidan because he has autism... and yet, his strength and choice to forgive after this verbal attack was mature, compassionate and inspiring.

Aidan's mom, Stephanie, blogs about that day, and has come up with a simple way to take those words that wounded, and replace them with ones that bring healing and hope.

That's where YOU come in by the way... but first read a little of what happened to Aidan. Below are some excerpts from Stephanie's blog post "An Open Letter To the Man in the Grocery Store." To read it in full, click here.

While exiting the grocery store my boys and I crossed paths with you when you entered to do your shopping. You were wearing your camouflage jacket, proudly displaying patches identifying yourself as a veteran, the very sort of hero that Aidan has begun to emulate all around the backyard on his various "missions." You made eye contact with Aidan, who was walking in front of my cart happily babbling on about new shoes he had picked out and how the springs in the heels just might even help him jump over a building if he practiced enough. Now Aidan typically responds to direct eye contact from strangers in one of two ways: he is either resistant and defensive, sometimes even verbally demanding that patrons stop looking at him, otherwise he responds quite to the other extreme and establishes an immediate relationship with the person in his head and desperately tries to connect and interact. In this particular occasion, he fell into column B. When asking Aidan about the incident, he told me he wanted to "play soldier with the solider." This played out in the form of jumping in place into a playful stance of what can only be described as "put em up tiger," and an accompanying "grrrrrrrr" for good measure. (Photo: Stephanie Tait)

Now I want to be perfectly clear about something: I don't for two seconds believe that simply because my child is on the spectrum, that he is entitled to behave any way he pleases in public. For every measure of grace we give, there is an equal measure of teaching and guidance...

You looked at my son menacingly, then mumbled something at me under your breath while shaking your head in disapproval. "I'm sorry," I tried to say politely with a meager smile, "my son is on the spectrum." I wasn't planning to stop there, leaving my statement to waft around as some sort of free pass to continue on with our day. In fact I was angling myself to come down to my sons eye level and ask him to offer you not only an apology, but the greeting he has been well taught to offer any in uniform – "thank you for your service." But before I could speak another word you stepped in gruffly. "Heh, that's one thing you could call it." Your words were seething with disapproval, broadcasting your judgment of my apparent lack of parenting skills and my inability to control my children.

I admit it, I was defensive at this point, seeing my son's face flashing with confusion and anxiety, desperately looking for cues from me on how to interpret a social situation that was simply too complex for his special brain to understand. My tone was less than polite at this point as I snapped back, "Excuse me? Do you even understand what it means to be on the autism spectrum?"... (Photo: Stephanie Tait)

It was at this point you began to yell, each phrase bringing with it a wave of hot salty tears, each wave tossing me turbulently until I simply couldn't tell which way was up and it was if my whole being shut down, lifelessly limp in the current. "Of course I know what autism means! But then you should know better than to bring him into stores! It's your own d**n fault for subjecting the people to him! Next time keep the freak at home."

Did you see my son? Did you see when those final words left your mouth and that last syllable washed over his ears and into his tiny little heart? Did you notice him, rocking by the cart, hitting himself over and over repeating "I'm not special. I'm dumb. I'm not special. I'm dumb." Did you even see? Because in that moment, my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces and I simply didn't have the presence of mind to both minister to my wounded child and simultaneously find words to adequately respond...

And as quickly as you had crossed our path, you were gone, disappearing into the jars of pickles and rows of breakfast cereals, probably never to give us another thought.
But sir, you don't know.

You don't know that Aidan has the most incredible mind for science. You don't know that he spends hours exploring ideas like inertia and velocity and how colors are created in the spectrum of light. You don't know that Aidan passionately poured over books and charts on chemistry for weeks, and ultimately committed most all of the table of elements to perfect memory...

You don't know that he has already mastered most of the basic concepts of computer programming logic and is hoping to start learning his first programming language this year. You don't know that Aidan grasps complex math concepts like percentages and fractions and can explain them in ways that even some of his 5 year old peers could start to understand them... (Photo: Stephanie Tait)

You don't know that Aidan has the most compassionate heart of any 5 year old I've ever known. You don't know that he sponsors a child in Uganda, ran his own snack stand at our garage sale last summer giving every cent he made to funding education for kids in Kenya, and that he worries deeply about the homeless and the poor...

You don't know that even though my sweet boy is still deeply wounded by the horrible words you said, that at bedtime prayers last night he chose to pray for YOU, sir. You don't know he offered up a sweet sincere prayer that God would give the army man a good day tomorrow, and that he could have Jesus in his heart. You don't know that my 5 year old son with all his challenges and struggles was hero enough to forgive YOU, a man that should have been his hero but instead broke his tiny heart to pieces...

You don't know my son. You don't know what the world would be missing if I didn't choose to keep subjecting people to him as you put it. I have spent all year teaching my son the truth he is valiantly trying to cling to today: that He is made in God's perfect image. We have taught our son that our big perfect God is simply so giant, so complex, and so beautifully multifaceted, that it takes a picture of each and every man, woman and child on this earth to begin to see a reflection of His perfect being...

I can only pray that God's grace abounds and that Aidan be reminded how incredibly special and incredible he really is. And judging by his bold choice to pray for you last night, I am encouraged that God is holding my sweet boy safely in the shelter of His arms, and that somehow He will bring him through this stronger and better for it... (Photo: Stephanie Tait)

Stephanie is hoping her post will help people think twice before unleashing careless words aimed at anyone. And this mom has taken another step in hopes of bringing some real healing to Aidan's heart. She has created Project Aidan.

Stephanie says: Because Aidan is able to read so fluently, and because he enjoys checking up on social media, I've decided to launch a campaign to show him just how loved and accepted he really is, and try to reverse some of the damage caused by the grocery store encounter. The premise is simple: post something to Instagram, Facebook, or even Twitter with the hashtag #youremyheroaidan for Aidan to see. Tell him he's special, tell him he's awesome, tell him he's loved—just tell him a little something to make him smile. I will continue to share with him your comments, posts, and shares and hopefully we can show this little guy just how wrong that man in the grocery store really was about him. Let's send this kid an avalanche of love to outweigh the negativity and give him the boost of a lifetime. That man may be a veteran, but Aidan is the real hero in that story.

If Stephanie's blog post has touched you like it has me, use the #YoureMyHeroAidan hashtag with some encouraging words for this special little guy, and let's see if we can bring some viral joy his way!

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