To the Editor:

Day breaks in stunning splendor. The air is crisp. The trees are ablaze in a wash of crimson, orange, and burnished gold.

A sudden drop in pressure creates a breeze that moves through the branches of the trees, shaking their leaves free to fall to earth in an unbound tapestry of color.

There is the constant illusion and eminence of power and peace that I sense in my walk this morning. I can feel the grace and softness of autumn fill my heart and light the gravel road before me.

The trees on both sides of the road bend inward, almost touching at the tops. Sunbeams stream through the tree branches and leaves, giving one the feeling of being in a cathedral full of stained glass windows.

I inhale slowly as I leave the canopy of trees and the beating of my heart slows to a more normal pace.

Soon I am at the home of a young boy who sits in an upstairs window staring at the rolling hills and fields before his unmoving gaze.

Neither he nor his eyes move, for it matters not what he is looking at but what he sees there. He is on a visionary journey that dances within the shadows of a cloud. He lives within one sky, one earth, one walk through time in one angelic embrace.

He may seem oceans apart, yet within the genius of his mind he will always be where the earth touches the stars; his name is Simon, and he is autistic.

I am a believer that each day comes bearing its own gifts. If you just untie the ribbon and look with unconditional love and acceptance that which lives within all of us.

John B. Dube, Sr.

East Hampstead



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