This article is taken from a recent letter that Michael Wood-Lewis wrote to his extended family about his son.

During Ben's first 83 days of life, all spent in the neonatal intensive care unit, I wrote updates to family and friends. Now, more than six years later, some exciting developments have stirred me to write again.

Despite terrific challenges from cerebral palsy and auditory dysynchrony, Ben met or exceeded the objective standard for all Vermont kindergartners in two-thirds of the 54 categories on his report card!

While part of what you're reading is common father's pride, the reason I'm writing is to report the first solid evidence of a six-year prayer answered. Keep in mind that Ben cannot move any part of his body reliably, cannot ambulate, cannot sit up or roll over, cannot reliably hit a switch (for a computer, etc.) or reliably drive a power chair. Ben is nonverbal. He has been mostly unresponsive to spoken or written language and has a serious and difficult-to-understand hearing disability. He can't eat by mouth and relies on a g-tube.

Ben is on several medications and has had several procedures. He's often uncomfortable, as his CP wreaks havoc with his muscles. His vision has been declared sub-par, but we think it's one of his relative strengths. The list of challenges goes on.

People might assume, with the severity of Ben’s disabilities clearly on display, that his intelligence is significantly below average too. Valerie and I had always taken Ben's cognition as an article of faith based on a parent's love and intuition. Now, we have firm evidence and a team of professionals saying that Ben told them his letters and numbers and colors on par with his typically developing classmates!

Some of Ben's other strengths are being recognized too... ones that we've always observed.  He's one of the most social kids in his mainstream class at our neighborhood public elementary school.  He has loads of friends across many grades.  Teachers and other adults in the school know and love him.  Ben, as always, is noted as a hard worker.  He sticks with things longer than many of his typically developing peers.  The teacher said she can always count on Ben's eyes being riveted on her when she's addressing the class (especially during story time).  And he has a great sense of humor... loves to laugh with the clowning and rough-playing boys especially.

The two paraprofessionals that work with Ben every school day use an interesting system to test his knowledge. With names of classmates, they hold up two nametags and ask Ben (in spoken English) to identify one. Ben scans from one name tag to the other, then stares at the correct one before looking back at the paraprofessional with his confirmation glance. He even handled a "trick" question. One paraprofessional secretly pulled Ben's nametag from the already-done pile and mixed it in with a later question. When she pulled his name for the second time, Ben just looked at the paraprofessional and smiled at the joke.

The paraprofessionals also reported that Ben was counting with his breath. They presented a card with a number of large dots that Ben was then to match to a card with the corresponding numeral on it. With the dot cards, the para would point to each dot (as a typically developing six-year-old might do when counting). Ben made a breathing sound each time the para pointed at a dot, and then identified the correct numeral (14 out of 20 times).

Valerie and I celebrated another set of accomplishments for Ben recently on vacation too. During one afternoon, we were all playing in a swimming pool after spending the morning on the beach. Ben was having fun with a third-grade girl we met there, Laura. Ben was trying on sister Madeline's little swim goggles just for kicks. Laura put hers on and she and Ben were looking at each other as I held Ben with our heads above the water. In the chaos and noise of the pool, she asked me if Ben could go underwater with her now. I said no, that that wasn't safe for Ben, but that we could do something else fun. Ben immediately turned away from Laura and towards me and shot me his pouting "big bottom lip" and his breath started heaving as if to cry... he was upset!
Somehow, he appeared to have understood Laura's request and my negative response (no signing, no computers, no symbols or flash cards). Further he had a definite opinion on the matter and made it known back to me.

After repeating the whole thing for Valerie to witness, I told him okay, at which point his big bottom lip melted away into his infectious smile. I held his nose and dunked him for a long two-count. He kept his eyes open and focused on his friend and came up grinning ear to ear. He did fine (even though his mouth was wide open during the whole time underwater). We repeated the process maybe a dozen times until he looked worn out!

Suddenly (it seems to a parent!), Ben is no longer a little babe, but a big schoolboy making big strides. His kindergarten teacher said that it's typical for her to see kids make big jumps in their development the second half of the kindergarten year, so she thinks Ben is right on schedule... which is a wonder to behold.

Valerie and I were both moved to tears in today's school meeting. The tears were part celebration of his accomplishments and part realization of a long-held fear... that people will sell Ben short and not expect enough from and for him. And, even though we've always kept the faith of his potential, these recent developments have caught us flatfooted. We're amazed at what our little boy is doing and the potential he is demonstrating. If we, his biggest advocates, can be surprised by his accomplishments, then who else is assuming he can't engage the world as other children do? So, consider yourself put on notice... expect a lot from Benjamin Donald Wood-Lewis! ©