CHAPTER ONE
These Children Are a Blessing
• SHOWING COMPASSION AND LOVE •
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Those whose lives are diminished or weakened deserve special respect. Sick or handicapped persons should be helped to lead lives as normal as possible.
—CCC 2276
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One of the few issues my wife and I were concerned about when we decided to join the Catholic Church in 2005 was how to include our oldest son, Alex, who has high-functioning autism. He was seven years old that year. Ever since his diagnosis at age two, we had found excellent therapists and doctors to help him function better at school, overcome his speech deficit, and cope with life in general. We were concerned about how he would do in our church’s Parish School of Religion (PSR, the religious education program for public school students) and how he would ever learn something as deep and complex as Catholicism.
The first few years of PSR were a wonderful experience for Alex. He encountered kind and loving teachers from our parish who were patient with him as he grappled with the teachings of the Church. Things progressed at a steady pace until 2010, when our family encountered an angel named Jeanne Lyons.
Jeanne’s job at our parish was to help Alex and other children with special needs participate more fully in the sacramental life of the Church, help them learn about our faith, and help them share their often unique gifts with others. Over the years I have seen my son blossom in his understanding and love for the Church, and it’s in large part because of the heroic efforts of Jeanne. Jeanne is very important to Alex’s growth as a Catholic, and we were overjoyed when she graciously agreed to serve as his confirmation sponsor.
Jeanne Lyons is not simply a volunteer with a big heart. This lifelong Catholic from Morgantown, West Virginia, grew up in a devout Catholic home with loving parents and three other siblings. She felt an early calling (at age five!) to be a teacher, and she taught elementary school after her college graduation. But it wasn’t until her own sons were born that she felt called to teach special education. Both of Jeanne’s boys had challenges: Her oldest son, Shawn, was diagnosed at age four with Asperger syndrome (AS), and her younger son, Riley, struggled with sensory integration and speech issues as a child.
Jeanne shared with me the often difficult years of learning everything she could about autism, AS, and sensory integration issues, while her devoted husband, Rory, worked long hours as an attorney to support their family and provide for the expensive therapies their sons needed. Jeanne saw firsthand the difficulties her sons had in acclimating to school classrooms and dealing with peers.
Jeanne and her husband also witnessed their oldest son’s growing disillusionment with Catholicism, after he experienced bullying during his last two years at a Catholic elementary school. The school administration had changed, and neither Shawn nor the bully was offered the guidance that he needed. The situation led to the Lyonses’ heartbreaking decision to enroll Shawn in a public high school. This school welcomed Shawn with open arms, valued his gifts, and was willing to continue to provide the accommodations with which the Catholic elementary school had supported Shawn’s academic success so beautifully.
Shawn’s experience became an important catalyst for Jeanne’s life’s work in the Catholic Church: “As his disillusionment continued, I knew I had to do whatever I could to help my Catholic parish…be a welcoming place of refuge and acceptance for persons like my son, and for their families as well.”
An example of Jeanne’s creativity and the difference she makes in the lives of those around her is how she modified an established parish program called Children’s Liturgy of the Word (CLOW) to become a teaching opportunity for teenagers with special needs. Typically a group of moms lead the children in hearing and understanding the Gospel reading during Mass in our chapel. Jeanne has set aside one Mass each month to be led by her group of teens. They meet the week before this Mass to rehearse their roles and become comfortable with their assigned responsibilities.
Imagine a teenager like my son Alex, who is nervous around strangers and uncomfortable speaking to a group, joyfully reading the Gospel to a room of young kids. My wife and I have witnessed the transformation he has undergone through CLOW. He has been given important responsibilities, has risen to the challenge, and has grown in his faith along the way.
With her musical gifts, Jeanne also leads a popular weekly program called Jubilee Music. This program is for children with special needs—ranging from Down syndrome to autism—and their typical peers. The format is a fun joy ride of songs, music, and games, with all of the children coming together for a special hour. One of the important goals of this ministry is to offer an opportunity for typical children to engage with and better understand their peers who have challenges. It also provides an opportunity for kids with challenges to model the behavior of their peers.
Jeanne is besieged with requests every week from children from local schools who want to come and spend time with her group, and she has seen for herself how the Holy Spirit has worked through this ministry. She related this relevant story:
One Catholic school family that attends Jubilee Music, whose children do not have any disabilities, have asked for their children to be placed in PSR classes with children who do have disabilities. (Yes, this is a Catholic school family who also send their children to PSR.) They feel it’s important for their children to have these opportunities to learn from peers who do things differently and to learn about faith, hope, and love in a concrete way that is unparalleled in its impact.
This desire to integrate and promote inclusion goes beyond these programs. Jeanne shows up at PSR classes, Bible studies, teen socials, and anywhere her “kids” are to be found. She works tirelessly to recruit typical kids to engage and befriend the children with special needs who are present, helping them to feel included instead of leaving them to sit by themselves, which too often happens.
Jeanne once invited three high school senior boys to take my son Alex out for a pizza lunch by themselves. Alex, who desperately wants to fit in with other teens, had a great time and talked about this special lunch for several weeks. This gift to my son, and to the boys who took him out to lunch, is just one example of how Jeanne Lyons helps young people with challenges integrate more fully into Catholic and parish life. These thoughtfully orchestrated events and acts of kindness have a profound effect not only on the young people involved, but on their families as well.
To better understand the impact of Jeanne’s work in her parish community and increasingly in the archdiocese of Atlanta, it helps to know what she is like as a person. Jeanne radiates joy. She is always engaging and full of energy, and she is a wonderful listener. When I asked her how this ministry work has impacted her Catholic faith, she described it as a form of healing for the challenging days when her sons were younger and not welcomed, valued, or included in parishes or schools. As she shared with me, “Having the opportunity to welcome, to truly get to know and to experience fellowship with persons with significant disabilities, as part of a loving community effort, is the very best, most concrete way to cooperate with God in growing one’s faith, hope, and love. My job at St. Peter Chanel gives me this opportunity every day, and it is helping me to give this opportunity to others.”
Jeanne shared a story with me of a CLOW session where one of her autistic teenagers—a tall, skinny young man from another country—did the first reading. He loves to read to the children, but because of his speech deficits and foreign accent, he can sometimes be difficult to understand. When he finished reading, a little boy came up to Jeanne and shyly whispered, “I want to tell that tall guy that he did a good job.” Jeanne saw a wonderful teaching moment, and she asked the little boy if he would like to meet the teenager. The little boy replied with a sigh of relief, “Yes. Language seems to be tricky for him, and I think it might be hard for him to bond with other people, but I think he did a really good job.”
Here is Jeanne’s recollection of the rest of the story:
I helped the little guy follow through with our plan. I introduced him to our very tall friend, and he looked way up to say, “You did a good job!” My team member very proudly and enthusiastically said the most beautiful thank you I’ve ever heard, and he surprised us by immediately bending down to give the little guy a big, gentle, friendly hug. (Yeah, peek-a-boo, I see you too, God! And thanks for making this happen!)
When I got home, I called the younger boy’s mom to tell her how impressed I was with her son’s insight, bravery, and desire to reach out to someone who had struggles that were very different from his own. I explained that he had made a big difference that day in the life of a young man with a disability. She responded the way that the parents of typically developing children always do when I make similar phone calls. She said...