It's mine

Just a few days ago, BJ's teachers were very concerned that BJ does not speak at all in class, and were astonished to hear our wonderful story that he talks at home.

As an aspiring psychologist to be, I understand why selective mutism was the preferred choice of his day. I probably can explain through a deficit autism model of neurological disorder, and blah blah blah.....

But perhaps, his "still water" runs deep. Hehehehehehe..... every conversation / feedback from his teacher tells me something. You cannot not communicate. (Must thank my gurus and mentors at Eaglesnest for teaching me that -- if they are comfortable with me calling them mentors)

First, he told his friends to have a "quiet mouth" when they were too loud in class. Hey, I didn't teach him that. Then, he claimed his teacher Helen as "his" (It's mine) when a classmate tried to interrupt. This little bunny is just slowly showing his true colors.

These are true joys in life.....

I believe

This is not Fantasia Barrino's I believe. Nor, I believe in the Prince of Egypt. It was a gospel song I heard as a child. Popularised by Barbara Streisand, I truly believe that in somewhere in the darkness of night, a candle glows.

This song is for BJ and his friends, and all in my family.


Words and music by Erwin Drake, Irvin Graham, Jimmy Shirl, Al Stillman

I believe, for every drop of rain that falls, A flower grows...

I believe that somewhere in the darkest night, A candle glows...

I believe for everyone who goes astray, Someone will come, to show the way,

I believe, I believe...

I believe, above the storm the smallest prayer, Will still be heard...

I believe, that someone in the great somewhere, Hears every word...

Everytime I hear a newborn baby cry, Or touch a leaf, or see the sky,

Then I know why, I believe!

There were only tears welling up whenever I hear this song, or sing this song.

Dear BJ, mum believes that your great Friend is hearing every word you say, uttered, or unuttered, in the humblest moment you ask for grace before a meal. Though it seems rigid, your friend Jesus delights in what you do. Thank you Lord, for making BJ one and only unique boy.