The art of driving

Yesterday we went to collect Christine's car at the garage where it had been for maintenance. While we were waiting for our turn to speak to the mechanic, the latter was having a conversation with a (very) senior citizen. The old man was incredibly shabby, with worn, dirty clothes and a dusty old cap on his balding head and he spoke very rough local dialect too. We couldn't understand all of it, but after living in this area for almost a year and a half now (Christine already two years) we could make out most of what he was saying. Apparently he had dropped by for a broken stop light of his old little Peugeot. The mechanic was most helpful and asked the man to press the brake pedal so he could investigate the problem.

- "Errr... which pedal would that be?", the old man asked.

- "It's the one in the middle", the mechanic kindly replied.

In the meantime Christine and I were standing there in wonder. That man was driving his car without knowing where the brakes were??? We had hardly overcome our initial surprise when we overheard him mutter something else which we didn't understand but which ended with:

- "...I'm not seeing too well anymore because I have cataract." 

Our eyes must have seemed to pop out of their sockets and our jaws dropped open wide. How on earth... There wasn't much time to think because the bulb was replaced in no time and the man appeared to want to reverse his car. There was little room to manoeuvre and Christine's car was parked pretty closely behind his so I shouted at her: "Quick, move your car out of the way as far as possible!" Which she immediately did. Better not take chances with that bloke behind the wheel! To our great relief, however, the mechanic was so friendly to reverse the car himself because after all it was a rather tight spot and so the man could take over straight onto the entrance lane.

And then... suddenly an elderly lady arrived on foot and took the driving seat of the little Peugeot.

- "Yes, I'm driving because my husband's sight isn't too good, you see", she explained. Christine and I were having difficulties not to laugh too obviously and we really had to clench our teeth together. And off they went...

The frailty of friendship

Friends for life... such sweet words, but altogether whispers in the wind and too easily forgotten because of a sad misunderstanding. I had a friend once... someone I believed to be a true friend. Someone who'd always stand by me and never let me down... Alas, wrong interpretations of words cast in stone, the unwillingness to listen to explanations and the stubbornness of the own right shatter a bond that I once thought to be unbreakable. I went down on my knees and begged... begged for forgiveness, which I shouldn't even have done. But I though that this friendship was too valuable so I gladly humiliated myself in order to save it. In vain. 

Now I realise that noone, not even the closest true friend, is worth going down on your knees for. I realise that when someone remains stonecold to this ultimate act of trying to make a mends the original friendship wasn't as true as it should have been and that once again I've been deceived. I'm a terrible chooser and all too often let myself be indulged by sweet words. More whispers in the wind... Whispers... which dissolve in absolute silence...

The red bracelet

- "Hurray! Today we're going to my favourite amusement park!", a little boy shouts overjoyed when his mum announced the big news. He's autistic and he just adores going to that park because to him it's his fantasy world come true. All of his friends from television will be there, like Samson the dog, dwarf Plop and Maya the bumble bee. It's summer and for a change the weather's very nice, which only adds to the boy's excitement. He's filled with impatience and anticipation as they drive all the way to the park. Of course, summertime and nice weather also mean that the park is very crowded. The boy's a bit anxious about that, but fortunately the park management has a special arrangement for children like him: the red bracelet. Children with a disability, either mental or physical, are entiteld to wearing this bracelet which offers them a priority entrance at the various attractions. No horrible queues which could possibly drive him mad and cause a crisis. 

Unfortunately, however, not everyone is as understanding towards children with a handicap. Some heartless people watch the priority entry with vicious jealousy.

- "Hey, where can you buy these red bracelets? I want one for my kids as well!", a vile woman shouts hysterically at the little autistic boy. But to the woman's surprise, the boy remains as cool as a cucumber and calmy replies:

- "Do you want my bracelet? Well, you can have it. But you'll have to take my autism with it!"

The mad woman is stunned and doesn't know what to say anymore. And so is everyone else who's watching the scene. The boy then enters the attraction and tries to forget what just happened. In vain, obviously. It keeps nagging in his head and he so wishes that his autism would go away. As if it had only been a bad dream. The rest of his day is ruined and he only wants to return home and cry.

It's an ordinary day out of the life of little Thomas, and I guess from personal experience out of the life of every autistic person or people with other disabilities. My brother, for example, has always been a keen boyscout and once they went to the city of Antwerp with one of them sitting in a wheelchair, just for laughs in order to spot the people's reactions. Although not a lot of verbal reactions were encountered, the faces of these people said more than a thousand words. Ranging from pity to annoyment because the wheelchair was in their way. There's still a long way to go as far as education is concerned...